is becoming like an old old much loved, dog eared love. I'm struggling to renew our lines of communication. I am trying every language, nuance, tone I know, to get through. I am trying to ignore, or limit, the call of the new, fresher, fleetingly startlingly, honester and and more beautiful. Will I succed? That was never my forte. To say the least. I can hold on to only so many dead.
I dont want to let you go, just walk away, but I'm groping for the connection we had, or so I'd thought, but you just wont help me. I think of a million things, but when we're face to face, I cant find that voice again, in which havent talked, in an age. I'm reaching out. I'm struggling with the strings of this mask, that you and me and time built. Help me. I want to be your friend again.
I still love you, like my own, like a part of me, you are still my friend. I'm talking to you, do you hear me?
Originally posted: 7th Dec 2005. And still no joy :)
Originally Posted at Prerona.