To be continued...

We met the first day of preschool.

From the moment we met, I knew we were meant to be best friends.

We were there for each other...

The night I spent crying into your shoulder.

Saying "Daddy's left and he isn't coming back. Why doesn't he love her?!"

We have seen each other at our lowest.

We talked about our likes, dislikes and what bored us.

I was there holding your hand at your brothers service.

Unlike past relationships you never made me nervous.

We were young and close.

Just friends and that hurt the most.

We knew each's favorite song and Color.

We Talked about are problems about our Father and Mother.

That night was the changing point.

I saw you with different eyes.

With love and hope that my heart devised.

That week was like no other, in that week we both changed.

I picked up the phone and I called your home.

"Meet me at the park. I have something to tell you."

"Me too!"

I dressed for this day of my life.

I was going to tell you. That I loved you and I guess I always have.

How would he take it? Is their a chance we wouldn't make it?

If so I couldn't take it! But I loved him and took the risk,

I went to the park my heart ready to deliver this.

I've been waiting for this. I saw you standing there.

I walk up to our spot.

Your standing RIGHT there. This is my shot.

I blink, I breath.

I step, I speak.

Who knew that was all it took for you to become a writing in a book.

You stopped me before I started.

To tell me of your love and how it happened.

You dated this girl and soon were married.

I was her bridesmaid and that was the last we shared.

Why? No matter how hard you try to be strong...everyone has a breaking point. A moment where those walls that you were keeping from falling on top of you start to fall. A noticeable waver in your locked in foot, as you straddle the pressure around you. One after another they fall on you. All you can do is cover your head and hope that the aftermath is not too bad. You think ahead about the effort it’ll take to rebuild and it’s already stressed you out because you have put all your strength into patching the problems so far and you are tired. Tired of all of it. 

All those you used to turn too are gone. Not that you even want them back but your lonely. If they tried to hug you would you embrace them, or fight them? Would the tears that slip out be of glee to have them back or of pain to have them stand there before you ripping the scab off of the wound that just started to heal. 

You've left my arms, disappeared from my sight. I could throw away the things that lead my mind back to you. But my memories won't budge.

I've tried to get myself lost from you. To where even my heart couldn't find a way back. Like a rope around my heart you keep dragging me back to you. I tried running deeper into the desert, forest, even the ocean to get away from you. But your the thought I run from and the thing I end up running to.   Our ending was sad and tragic. Surprisingly not painful enough to smudge the picture of you out of my head...Let alone my heart. Sometimes I think that if I just cut out the part of my heart that your in, that you’re branded too...I will get some relief. But by the time I get done chopping away the tainted area that you've infected I'd be left with less then half a heart. I will then have become more dead inside then I ever thought.

What has happened to my heart?

Every emotion that occupies my body is now something I ache thinking about. Every feeling is something I've never wanted to ever have felt. Regret is said to be the worst feeling. But longing for something you didn't even have the time to regret is worse. Knowing your heart shouldn't be caught on something and not knowing how to untangle it. It's a tiring cycle.

I miss these old keys. I've debated with myself on should I start a account or anything that will urge me to write more. But I've realized lately though that I miss writing terribly. It makes my head clearer. Even though I write about nothing at least it’s something to me. I don’t see myself as a creative person but it makes me feel creative.