an entry two years old.

I found some old things I had written a year or two ago. I figured I would just cut and paste them into my diary before I delete them from the disks.

“There is so much hurt in this game of searching for a mate, of testing and trying. And you realize suddenly that you forgot it was a game, and turn away in tears.” ~Plath

And she thought she made the perfect decision. This half-girl, half-woman. You see, they told her that things had to make “sense.” Sylvia knew that things didn’t always make sense. So she took everything in her life, and made it make sense.

She looked at herself in the mirror and changed her appearance. Of course, it is important to be who you are supposed to be. She looked at friends and decided who would be perfect. And her smile. She pasted on a smile that would be “perfect.”

And then she got to him. He didn’t make “sense.” His eyes were too dark. Maybe it was his hair. Maybe it was the way that he would always reach for her hand when she faltered. Or the way he could be with her.

Those things all combined to form something big, something beautiful. Something that made her FEEL so much. But she couldn’t take it. She couldn’t take his love. She couldn’t take all the things that he was offering her.

Because that would mean giving everything. Because that would mean falling into his arms. Because that would mean doing something that didn’t make sense for once.

Just once. Just once she gave in. And he taught her so many things! So many. He taught her how to smile. And his kisses, they caressed her frowns. He made her “perfect” in so many ways. A future with a prince. Until she just walked away from him. She walked away once and realized that she wasn’t the same without him. And he realized that he wasn’t the same without her.

So they met in the middle. And this time she couldn’t even conceive of a future without him. There wasn’t a future unless he was there. They actually talked about marriage. And about children. And she saw a future by his side. As his wife. With the children. And a part of her questioned it. A part of her still wanted to experience life. But somehow, the questions were too much for both of them. And she left him again.

And that was the end. Or maybe. Maybe not. There was still the love. And the memories. And everything that was him that she couldn’t be near anymore. The constant “what if’s”.