Beauté dans la panne

Promises…

Of course, I have to keep them.  I swore this time, I wouldnt stop writing, and after spending the night looking back through my diary, i felt compelled to do so.

I often save things, conversations, txt messages…I saved this conversation from Easter (an excerpt):

        K: im just moody, its not your fault
        J: no its not moody…its wanting
        K: it is wanting…you dont know the half of it
        J: or maybe i do…

I guess maybe you did ::sigh::

You are now off to dreams, and I am awake, as I am prone to being.  I gave you the name for my diary, and made it possible for you to read it.  I am no longer anonymous, this is no longer the art of the censored self portrait.  You have me, all of me.  It is laid bare: the good, the bad.  The confident and the insecure.  

The gifts you have given me, tangible and not, have touched a part of my soul that I thought was unreachable.  Truly, Jamie.  I sit here with the blinking cursor, because I feel more full and found than I ever have.  I feel as if the truth bleeds from my skin, and that there is no longer need for words. The eloquence is expressed via fingertips…

So let go, let go
Just get in
Oh, it’s so amazing here
It’s alright
Cause there’s beauty in the breakdown….

yeah, only you get that…