The Original Fake Audrey.

[You may read my previous journal “flowers of the wrecked mind” before this one]

With school now coming to a close and a flower that blossomed, a swing that still sways back and forth in spirit, and other upsetting feelings of realization when knowing I can’t lose something I never had… I’ve felt my love is dying. The parties could never cover the feeling of standing in a room full of rising bodies dancing and moving to earsplitting music and still being able to hear my own heart beating drowning any laughs and screams of happiness. Knowing I can’t close my eyes and expect it to vanish. I can’t just halt time and stop my unenthusiastic feelings of the desire that I was a different individual when I did recognize my friends. They’re gone now…all I have is few pictures. It’s frustrating to attempt in reaching for all your friends and loved ones in already knowing that I have no chance to succeed in recovering them. There fading into the print of the photographs that have filled the corners of my mirror. I have no craving in wishing to have regrets but in my last few days I’ve felt hopeless. I’m losing everything and I keep screaming within myself phrases such as “I’m truly and sincerely I’m going to miss you!!” instead of hearing a few screams urging me to the dance floor. As far as I know I’ll discontinue the music, wreck the dance floor, and grab my friends all to get this memo across. I was in love; I still am….but I don’t recognize the man anymore. I may have changed to just a speck of dust in all the lot in his eyes but I am always going to be the one soul staring from across the room when something was bothering him. I am always the one who he teased for two and a half years. I am the one who still as my spirit on the swings still waiting……I want to wait. My old self would wait until death; my new self is strong enough to blossom. I am that flower……I keep telling myself I can’t be that girl. For all eternity you can wait for a love that’ll never come, or….you could just search for it until that brief time of love comes. I’ve rather become that flower. There’s no use in dwelling on the past forever, no matter how long your old self stays on that land post swinging. You have to be willing to blossom. You have to force yourself to blossom; if not… you may never love at all. I have loved but I have past or at least I’m attempting to. The goodbyes and farewells all terrify me and give me new knots and creatures to flutter in my stomach once again. The final and complete last day will make me flutter myself and make the day sunny no matter how the weather is. Hopefully I’ll say goodbye to my old self that same day too…..