533

by karigurl13
Feeling: powerless

Some days.

Sometimes.

I just stare at the site.

And wonder what happened.

I mean, I know what happened.

We all can't stand each other.

But what I don't get is how we got there.

How we lost what we had.

Why we grew up.

And grew so far apart.

In my darkest places.

You all were my family.

And sometimes I just regret.

I regret who I was.

And everything I did.

Just for attention.

Because I was so starved of it at home.

I blamed so many people.

But never myself.

But I'm older now.

I've changed.

I'm fifty times the woman I was.

But I guess all I ever want to say.

Is how sorry I am.

For being me.

All the things I ever said.

Everything.

I'm sorry.

I regret everything.

I swear that I should just stay a loner.

Because I'm always afraid of getting hurt.

But I think we all are.

Words will never take the pain away.

The hurt away.

And everything we did to each other.

Will fester in our minds when we see screen names.

I hate.

I wonder.

What could I have done to make it different?

But at the end of the day.

It's all the same.

Nothing would have stopped the cataclysm.

Nothing would have kept us from tearing apart.

But my dearest memories still have all of you.

Even as I cry.

Because of my regret.

My sorrow for days long gone.

Nothing will bring them back.

Nothing will ease the rage and pain of our hearts.

Read 1 comments
All we are to each other are just ghosts. Like Mal from Inception. With no real person to compare us to and update our understanding of one another that is all we will remain. Just a watered down version of our past selves that occasionally will haunt one another. Sometimes a dark shade of who we once knew or a bright vision of a good time we had, but never real and never who we have become during our absences. As much as it hurts to regret, the sting is ever so sweeter when you know that you were the one who killed something in your life that once was the world you lived in. Even more so is the sting that as much as you think of them is the knowledge that you mean nothing in return. Regret is our reward for having a soul. Care for those who can care less of you is proof that maybe we all did love each other. But our love was tainted and led us to grief. We had no business touching each other's hearts that way. In the end we broke them and scattered the pieces on purpose.