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H on est ly ,

The night is always darkest just before the dawn.

14.7.09

At this point, I understand that I only continue to involve myself with you because of my own foolish pride. I told you once, at a very early stage in our....whatever this is, that there was no such thing as opening up too slowly when it came to emotions. I told you that as long as you were trying, everything would work out, and you should never let a female make you feel guilty for not being as open with your emotions as they would have you be.

Now, I don't know if you're trying or not. It doesn't seem like you are, but, it'd be unfair of me to make that assumption, so I'm just going to say I don't know. I hope you are. I hope that this is a priority to you, being able to communicate with people emotionally. I don't think it is, but I hope it is, and I hope you're trying to fix it.

In any event, I feel like if I were to leave you alone, because you're not emotionally open enough for me, that'd be hypocritical. I also feel like you wouldn't take my advice. You'd start thinking there was something wrong with you and never try to open up again. I understand I may be giving myself a little bit too much credit right now, but it is the way that I feel.

And so, I continue to talk to you, or to try, anyway, even though there's no gain for me, because I hope that it can be something good for you. Meanwhile, I go get something for me somewhere else, and keep any thoughts of the "r" word with you at a distance, because then I would be cheating.

You know you're not the only person I talk to. He knows about you. And yet I still manage to feel guilty. And this whole thing is pretty retarded, when I think about it. I should probably just leave you alone.

But in typical female fashion, I pray that you'll change, that overnight you'll magically transform into the perfect man, so we can commence with our happily ever after. You know the one. The one that happens in all the movies, the one that's completely impractical, yet somehow always manages to work anyway. That's what I'm waiting for.

Looking at all that with a critical eye, I'm forced to ask myself who it's benefitting though, really. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to me, and it's not fair to him. So what on earth is the point?


Ashley

just another little black girl with dreams. I play my music too loud, and I don't listen. I'm only at peace when I'm in pain: when my wrist is sore from writing my emotions out like blood on the band-aid of a page, or when my throat is raw from singing my thoughts like tears into the air. I'm conflicted, and unrepentant, and I like the way this blogging shit makes me feel. This is the one and only place I'll never lie, honestly.

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