Jul 11, 2014
Pride
Here we go. I feel as if someone has cut a piece from me, in a replicate, and decided not to return it. I can't even get my thoughts formed straightly without shaking in frustration with myself. At what point and time did I make this decision to decide that I will hold myself back. Performing these acrobatic flips through flaming hoops in my own mind, was not what it seemed. Maybe I was the problem in this instance? Maybe I was not. But, I know now that my reaction was not in the least bit commendable. So, why am I writing this in hopes of a response when I don't even expect the decency, from you, to look my way anymore. Do you see me in a different shade of red now? Or am I still the raggedy old doll that you used to play with?
