Written Through These Amber Eyes

At first, I wasn’t okay with the silence, which hurt even more because I had begged for it. I pleaded for someone to pull the rug out from beneath my feet. I manifested for something, anything, to throw me off my balance. I knew it would change many things. I knew my mind would often be left wandering. I knew any question I could have would float around much longer than having that special someone there for each and every moment. It’s humorous in life that you can fight and strive to build and achieve this strong independence. You create more goals for yourself, and with each one you surpass, you look around at an empty room full of books, art, comfort blankets, and the nook you created for the times you pause. I wouldn’t change it, though. I could wear their scars, seek their energy to feel pain, and miss them from afar. Those thoughts don’t trickle as often as they used to. Not a day goes by without seeing my smile, whether in tears or not; that’s one rule I have with me. My condolences for you not getting to see that anymore, for my hopeful words not existing for you to blatantly ignore any longer.