March, 01, 2014

I hate, more than anything, this feeling of no longer moving forward. To stand still is to stop living, and I know this. I know this, but I keep looking backward at your smile. Remembering the way you always look at me. The way you answer the tears I have not admitted I am crying. The way about you that is somehow similar, but completely different, than my way. Captivated by it, as always, I still cannot explain why it delights me, not being able to guess or know, exactly what you will say or how you will phrase it. I want to wake up and learn, what you will say first thing in the morning. I want to go to bed and hear, the last thought you have, before drifting to sleep. I look back, and worry, about the tomorrow I am unable to see, unless I turn around, and look for it.

Will I always worry this way? Or will I one day accept and trust in what comes. Be at peace with what will be.

I am weary..and I am at the point where any change will be better than this lack of growth. I hope I am worthy of happiness but I will not find it facing backwards. Forward facing. I will once again seek lessons. I miss you.


Published by Bexley Benton. (Pen name)

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog.

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