My head is so full of crap god help me. I feel like I suffer from identity crises and heartbreak, though have I ever truly loved? The words don't flow, nor do they pour our in anguish. Instead they are halted and mixed up. Trying to convey emotions threatening to overflow.
Little trifles that keep me up at night and jumble my head. Was it romance? Or just hormones leading me on in hopeless confusion? Time being the enemy, though that sounds like it came out of a novel written long ago. The separation and time wrecking what I had managed to build up in the limited hours.
And then I lose myself, trying so hard to express feelings and groping for the right words. In entirety, life is good, but that feeling of wanting is there. To say, as much as I want to, that I wish my life wasn't mine, is wrong. The small sufferings that would be pointless to explain, as they come out incomprehensible. To want to live anothers life is stupid, selfish, and ungrateful, yet don't we all?
I feel that inside my head is organized chaos, yes, an oxymoron. And no one would no what to do with that organized chaos, not even me. But that's my point. To ask the simple question, "Who am I?". Just stupid confusion twisted into as if a secret code. Meaning hidden behind the useless words.
And there's him. People would laugh, at times I even find myself laughing and saying, "You stupid hopeful girl." Rereading and wondering what the hell I was thinking. But remembering the memories makes it real and I wonder if I really was that crazy. Yet the relapses that threaten to more questioning. It's all just nonsense hidden underneath trying to escape. But do I even want it to escape?
Rachel - Je T'aime?
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