I always leave the door open, for one obvious reason: hope. It’s a silly reason, yes, but one that isn’t wholly illogical. I’ve prided myself on the fact that I can look past so much of the negative in order to find the positive. Many have called me blind, some strong. Looking back, I guess i’m not sure what I’d call myself in relation to this. Why do I make the decisions I’ve made? Why have I let history repeat itself? In what world is this a good idea? In what reality does it ever work out?
I used to think that it was this world, this reality. I used to be so certain. As of late, certainty has gone out the window and onto a better place, leaving me behind in the dust; the selfish bastard. So far, those decisions have led me astray. I now sit here, writing this post with my heart on my sleeve and its bleeding. The sticky drops hit the keyboard, yet I won’t relent. I won’t stop writing. There’s no reason or rhyme to this post other than to explore the thoughts in my mind and hopefully make some meaning out of the shit in my life. Did I do something to deserve this? Have I pissed off some omniscient being who conveniently decided to pick on me this week? I’m done falling over and over and over again. With my knuckles bruised and my knees scraped, I trudge on hopefully, stupidly, and blindly. I guess the time to let go is when you realize the other person wasn’t holding on as tightly or in the same way. That being said, I think I’ll take back my hand, unlock the grip, and fix it anew.
It’s time that I close that door, lock it, and throw away the key. Rumor has it, one more should open.