"From this experience I understood the danger of focusing only on what isn't there. What if I had come to the end of my life and realized that I had spent everyday watching for a man who would never come to me? What an unbearable sorrow it would be to realize that I had never tasted the things I'd eaten, or seen the places I'd been, because I thought of nothing but [him] even while my life drifted away from me. And yet, if I drew all my thoughts back to him, what kind of life would I have? I would be like a dancer who practiced since childhood for a performance she would never give..."

An excerpt from a book I read recently that I instantly stored in my heart, and whisper to myself, like a mantra, to calm myself down.

~WormWoodProject is dead. Or at least, I'm done with it. It was a grand idea, but life caught up with me. Church, college, employment, and friendships have taken over my life. I'm sorry.






To you,

Please, give up on me. This once beautiful embodiment of me is gone, and exists only in your memories. Try to get rid of it if you want; I highly doubt it'll ever go away. What you need to do is move on with your life.

As for me, I dislike how you say I don't think for myself, and how I do things only to make others happy. I've made my decisions on my own, with insight of loved ones, and the guidance of God. I will tell you now, and only now, I will never go back to you. I don't think I'll ever be able to look you in the face ever again. Why, you ask? Because I see no point in seeing you ever again. I am happy with my life here, and the slight instances you magically pop up leave me uncomfortable. I know, there were times I was the first to say Hello, but I probably won't ever do that again.

When you look into the past, when it was you and me, what do you see? I see a woman torn between someone who loves her and someone she persistently clings on to. At some point, words were said, and this woman was finally able to let go. At the same time, she felt no need for the person who had grown to love her. It's a cruel and bittersweet encounter, one I would call (looking back now) as a case of bad timing and displaced emotions.

Don't read my poetry and prose and expect answers, because more than likely, you'll never pop up in them for a long, long time... if ever again.