I care about all that I have felt
I don’t think that people understand the extent to which I care
it’s probably too much for them and i understand
I wish to be no parasite to your beautiful mahogany tree.
Ayera Choudhary
She tried to close her heart up, but he stuck his foot in and kept the door open. It as too late. She was already in, head over heels. What a strange phrase. Her head was always over her heels, wasn’t it? Though, when you’re falling, that’s a far more uncomfortable and dangerous way to fall, isn’t it?
“You care about him, don’t you?”, he asked after following my gaze.
“I used to.” I say and try to swallow the feeling of guilt that overcomes me everytime someone only just mentions his name. Truth is, I still do.
And now.. after all these years… he is right in front of my eyes.
“Well, the way he’s acting means, he probably doesn’t care about you either.”
I know that. There’s nothing to change that now. Not even the bittersweet truth that made me leave in the first place. I didn’t have the Courage to tell him back then, I ain’t gonna tell him now.
“Yeah, well he’s history anyways. I don’t care.” I lied. Like I always did when someone asked about him.
I had deeply cared for my aunt Danny before she had died in a car crash. I hoped that she was happy walking among the stars. And that she knew I still loved her, I couldn’t imagine how my Mother felt losing her sister. I could never cope with having Grace disappear on me. Our family is doing our best to cope with losses. Things happen. You must hope for the best but prepare for the worst.
Sades
its the same word again.. day three of writing about the word care. I wish the word would change.. oh well. it is what it is I guess.
So caring. What to write about that. I mean I care about myself. I care about my husband and my cat.
Cheyenne Aeternum
children
L. Mungin, M.Ed.
I don’t care. That is all she thought we he walked out the door. Last several months she felt like a prisoner in her own home. She could no longer stand the site of him. How could it be? The one that stole her heart has now stolen her life. She looks in the mirror and barely recognizes the woman she has become. “What am I to do with my life now,” she thought. Looking over her shoulder she saw the calendar, the date March 24th circled with a red heart, today signified their ten-year anniversary and now the day it all ended.
I care about all that I have felt
I don’t think that people understand the extent to which I care
it’s probably too much for them and i understand
I wish to be no parasite to your beautiful mahogany tree.
She tried to close her heart up, but he stuck his foot in and kept the door open. It as too late. She was already in, head over heels. What a strange phrase. Her head was always over her heels, wasn’t it? Though, when you’re falling, that’s a far more uncomfortable and dangerous way to fall, isn’t it?
“You care about him, don’t you?”, he asked after following my gaze.
“I used to.” I say and try to swallow the feeling of guilt that overcomes me everytime someone only just mentions his name. Truth is, I still do.
And now.. after all these years… he is right in front of my eyes.
“Well, the way he’s acting means, he probably doesn’t care about you either.”
I know that. There’s nothing to change that now. Not even the bittersweet truth that made me leave in the first place. I didn’t have the Courage to tell him back then, I ain’t gonna tell him now.
“Yeah, well he’s history anyways. I don’t care.” I lied. Like I always did when someone asked about him.
I had deeply cared for my aunt Danny before she had died in a car crash. I hoped that she was happy walking among the stars. And that she knew I still loved her, I couldn’t imagine how my Mother felt losing her sister. I could never cope with having Grace disappear on me. Our family is doing our best to cope with losses. Things happen. You must hope for the best but prepare for the worst.
its the same word again.. day three of writing about the word care. I wish the word would change.. oh well. it is what it is I guess.
So caring. What to write about that. I mean I care about myself. I care about my husband and my cat.
children
I don’t care. That is all she thought we he walked out the door. Last several months she felt like a prisoner in her own home. She could no longer stand the site of him. How could it be? The one that stole her heart has now stolen her life. She looks in the mirror and barely recognizes the woman she has become. “What am I to do with my life now,” she thought. Looking over her shoulder she saw the calendar, the date March 24th circled with a red heart, today signified their ten-year anniversary and now the day it all ended.