I wonder whether I should write or not. Those stories that do not matter anymore.
Stories that made my life in the past. Those that I had always feared would hurt. The very reason I feared losing them. And yet, today I feel differently.
It seemed impossible back then. In some ways, it is still not been completely possible. The past does catch up at times. But now, it's not that that I feared.
It is not the same pain. It doesn't run as deep. It lives, yet isn't alive. Coz' no matter how much it lives on...inside me, I'd never lend it a moment of my life from the present. Not even a borrowed moment.
It can only remind me at times, of myself. Of a longing past. And sometimes, just sometimes, I'd sit and think about it. Or lie down and stare at the ceiling. Watch the dreams of the past, dance up there.
But...
But it doesn't beat my love for my present any longer. My life. My happiness. The freedom of finally living. Breaking those shackles of longing, coated with that fear of loss.
Oh no, they just dissolve into that ceiling, as I drift into sleep, in loving arms of a new destiny and newer dreams, that make up my nights these days.
Fearful dreams, are long gone. Gone are those stories that do not matter anymore.
I wonder then, whether I should write or not.
Stories that made my life in the past. Those that I had always feared would hurt. The very reason I feared losing them. And yet, today I feel differently.
It seemed impossible back then. In some ways, it is still not been completely possible. The past does catch up at times. But now, it's not that that I feared.
It is not the same pain. It doesn't run as deep. It lives, yet isn't alive. Coz' no matter how much it lives on...inside me, I'd never lend it a moment of my life from the present. Not even a borrowed moment.
It can only remind me at times, of myself. Of a longing past. And sometimes, just sometimes, I'd sit and think about it. Or lie down and stare at the ceiling. Watch the dreams of the past, dance up there.
But...
But it doesn't beat my love for my present any longer. My life. My happiness. The freedom of finally living. Breaking those shackles of longing, coated with that fear of loss.
Oh no, they just dissolve into that ceiling, as I drift into sleep, in loving arms of a new destiny and newer dreams, that make up my nights these days.
Fearful dreams, are long gone. Gone are those stories that do not matter anymore.
I wonder then, whether I should write or not.
