After The Break Up {box 2]

When i am captivated by lonliness
you can take me away
when the darkness immenses upon me
you can take me away
when i am lost in obscurity
you can take me away
when i am enlayed preciously inside your arms
you can take it all away






It doesn't make sense. Everything inside life hides the reality of it, because all around me i can see smiles and laughter, when there are truths alive and making themselves aware to me, truths that burn the disguise of happiness and expose me to the fully immensed experience of their wrath, their hateful reality of sadness and repression. That is the truth, that is a reality defined behind a disguise of joy that fakely surrounds me, tries effortlessly to fool me and can succeed by it's simplicity and through the longing that everyone contains for it which blinds them of the truth. No one wants to know what lies beneath, behind, throughout. All they want is the fantasy, the hope for peace and contemptment. Shutting out the darkness keeps them sane, and they are happy to see through all that will repress them to unhapiness, the closure of their peace, their detainment of their balance. I have been forced with reality for my ability to see. I have the will to see, there for, i have adapted to an awareness of all that is bad and all that is good. It's all defined by energy. Being ignorant is the true hell in my eyes, and i wouldn't want anything but stripped reality in all its dispair if that meant being capable of defining the truth, defining what's real. I hate the idea of barriors detatching us all from one another, barriers of lies that prevent us from rejoicing and combining within truth, for that is what can draw us together once again, and save us from the ignorance that contains us.
I want us to be together again. I don't want there to be anymore lies, or anything holding us back from each other. Unspoken words have drawn us apart from each other, and now i am lost in the ignorance that has eaten between us. I can't bare the feeling of becoming further away from you, for that is what we are becoming to each other with every day. Strangers, more so with every moment we spend in silence. The distance between us growing uglier and more obvious in different and new ways. Pretending. I can't stand it, and i just want to run away.
I hoped you wouldnt see me this way. Weak, undefensive. Perhaps real. Perhaps more so than you will ever see me. I am sorry you had to see my reality.
And nothing will change, and everything keeps us apart. I love you. I want to run away.


This is the first day that me and you have spent officially broken up. I didn't realise or understand how unstable i actually was untill a considerable ammount of days later. This day i had a mixture of emotions simultaniously programing into my head, and these included relief, loss, anger, repression, betrayal, to name only a few. Relief was what i wanted to know i felt, for so good was the feeling of not being under the preassure of his approval, his grasp and his domination, expectancy to be exactly the way he wanted me to be siply for the fear of losing him any more. Knowing that i didn't have to obide to that expectancy any longer was a huge releif and felt calming inside me. Loss. Clearly the loss of the person i'd given everything to, including my virginity, and even though he was unaware of all i had given to him, i had still lost the person i'd given everything to, and there for i'd lost everything. I didn't care about what i'd given to him and had now lost, for the biggest loss of all was him alone. No longer was he mine, and i had lost him. Everything i felt for him now had no meaning purpose to exist without him to match it, only to exist alone and presently denied by me. I was so overcome by anger that i was reluctant to admit to myself the feelings i contained for him, for the persistancy that he was unworthy and undeserving of anything i did feel. I was angry that those feeling's were there for him, and so i denied that at this point, even though i knew beneath my current anger i was glad they they had been for him and not someone els.
Repressed was the love i didn't want to accept that i felt. That i denied, and lied to myself of containing for now of all times i didn't want to face up to my own distinct reality despite knowing it very well.
The sense of betrayal was nearly as immense as the love. I cannot speak any further of it than that alone, and i don't wish to now.
This day was the first in a following of many. Many of which i was depressed and filled with an illusional hate which i sometimes believed was actual. I was empty, and felt meaningless and inexistant. It was like i wasn't there anymore, that i had been placed somewhere and forgotten about and everything els had continued to progress without me, into the distance and out of sight.

i woke up. Remembering everything that had happened, i immediately sunk into a mental pitt of distraction from the world, and the more i awoke and felt the peices shifting back into place within my memory, the more hollow and pointless myself and everything els became. The feeling i had was worse than depression, beyond help or curing. Simply not wanting to live, not wanting to breathe. Resenting my own capability to breathe, was what i felt. To have all aspect of living and awareness removed right now would have been a favor, something that would help me survive. But to live, was to be dead at this point. Not to live, was how to survive at this point. You see, none of it made sense. I'd never felt that way about someone before, but now the feeling of having lost him was something i knew abseloutly for definite straight away without a doubt, was something i had certainly never felt before. This was how i became certain, even more so than before, that i loved him. Even though, as i've said, i was utterly relectant to admit this to myself just then throughout all the anger i felt. Just thinking about him with her made me want to be sick, to kill myself, to take my own life. I actually wanted to take my own life through the sheer disgust i experienced of the thought of them together. Holding hands, kissing. Had he kissed her the way he kissed me? I thought that was special, i thought that i had meant something different to him. Would he have taken her into the woods the way he had done with me? Would he be offering her his coat and cuddling her from behind the tender way he had done with me? Had he taken her to his house and introduced her to Greg and Sasha, had they all hung out at night and had he snook her in when all the adults were asleep, like he had done with me? The worst thing i could possibly think of was him telling her she was special, that he loved her. I trembled with horror at the thought. With the grief of loss, and with pure unrefined jelousy which was stronger than my imposed hate for him. More than anything or anyone i hated her, beyond belief or all definition of words. I so badly wanted to kill her, to hurt her the way she'd hurt me, and him as well, but mainly her. Taking away the most preciaous thing in the world from me, the person i loved more than i could ever understand. He had been everything to me, and that monster had interviened in what we had and stolen him away from me, from wanting me and caring for being with me. Little did i want to understand that it had happened because of what he didn't feel for me and ultimately there wasn't any other relevant reason than that, no matter what she had done. It wouldnt have mattered about her involvment either way, because the way he felt about me was definite from the start, and could not have been changed or modified no matter how much i felt for him.
I found drinking as a patheticly neccasary solution to my uncontemptment, a morphne to my slashings. It didn't work, as i didn't have enough of it and the effect was temporary. I detatched myself from the world for the next few days, wondering off thoughtlessly, uncaring to the awareness or reation of those around me involved in my life, and didn't much care what i did or where i went, as long as i wasn't still, as long as i was constantly moving myself, weighing out the pain from the distillment of doing nothing, which was a liklier option now i was no longer attatched to anyone. Now i was alone. I wanted to cry each time the thought occured to me, that i was alone. It horrofied me, made me want to go mad. But it wasn't necasserily the idea of having no one, but the idea of not having him. I always knew, no matter what, when we were together, that despite everything we were going through, and how uncomfortable, confusing or unfortunate thing's were, we were together, and that was all that mattered, all i could hold on to. Now, although it was a releif not to have the preassure of him, i had nothing to hold onto, nothing to love, but only to look on at and long for, lovingly and regretfully, with the horrific combinment of hate and love devouring me furtherly each and every moment of my days from now on.
Nothing helped. I tried imagining myself as having learned a lesson from my experiences from him. I tried to see myself as having become a better and more improved person, having supposedly seen the error of my ways. I was never to be that dependant on someones love again, and was from now on a person of my own. I wanted to belong to myself. Reforming my identity to extent of which possible was a way of dealing with what had happened. In no way did it come close to heal me, but it plastered the wounds and gave a me a sense of perspective, a new purpose, and an alternative to the rebirth from the old me, the me that had done everything the wrong way in that relationship.
This new woman was Amelie, the serious confident reformed character that was to prove that she didn't need to depend or rely on anything to be something. I dressed diferently, i spoke differently, more confidently, and i looked on myself with more respect. I was 'above' Jack, and his pathetic behavior, and was supremely embarassed about any involvment with him. This was only the impression i was portraying, for i knew without a doubt it was irritate him, especially when i returned into town with Steph, ran into Sasha and all three of us came up with the amazing idea of publicly humiliating him. The perfect, satisfactory revenge to cure my resentful emotions towards him, and ease the hurt of betrayal he had inflicted upon me.
Sasha broadened her devious expression, and turned to me whilst gracefully flicking her hair from her face.
''Got a pen on you?'' She asked, with a impossable grin that suggested she had some sort of plan in mind.
''What the hell do you want a pen for out on the street?'' Steph asked, climbing up onto a bench, ''Let's stick here for a bit, i'm sick of walking around'' She sighed heavily and slumped, enlaying herself across more than half the bench. I hopped onto the head of it, perching myself on the edge. I remembered Steph's mini assignment marker in her back jean pocket, and nipped a hand in quickly before she sat back on her arse.
''Oi!'' She yelled, rather to suprisedly. I ignored her yelps and handed the marker to Sash.
I then looked at her suspersticiously, ''What did you want it for?''
Sasha rasied a slanted eyebrow, and removed the lid, ''You'll see''
She then took out a flip up notepad from her handbag and started tearing off shreads
''What are you going to write?'' I questioned, furtherly curious by this point as she was being unnusually quiet.
Sasha then laughed deviously, then licked her lips and looked at me, ''What was it you said about Jack before''
''Erm'' I began, thinking through previous remarks for a breif moment, ''That he was crap in bed?''
Sasha nocked her head back in laughter, and i couldn't help but grin in satifyable justice. Steph glared on in disgust.
''And?'' Sasha asked again, this time even more mischievably, the pen held to the very edge of the paper.
''That i was the first girl he ever slept with?'' I replied
''Because his first shag ever was probably a fucking sheep'' Steph muttered, staring blankly into the opposite wall.
Me and Sasha repented into a fit of laughter.
''Abseloutly'' Sasha agreed, then began to write something with the marker.
I looked over, intruiged and eager to know what her plan was. As soon as i had seen her completed peice of literature i knew instantly that we had both sunken to extremely immature depths, possibly worse than his. Either way the prospect seemed temptuously hilarious, and, just as i mentioned earlier, ideally just.