Thursday, February 6, 2014
Under the Traintracks
The following is post I wrote toward the end of October 2012. I never posted it because I was too self-conscious to do so. After re-reading it I feel as though it definitely needs to be public since it addresses a lot of points I still find valid about myself today. While, at the same time, showing me how far I've come. Enjoy!
When I am not running off to heaven-knows-where or busy with schoolwork I am usually deep in thought. Back home this would usually last for about an hour tops since reality would usually interrupt in the form of friends, family, or responsibilities. But out here in rural England, reality rarely ever interrupts. Every week I have about one or two days to myself where the only time I see anyone is during meals, meaning I am left to my thoughts longer than anyone really should be.
I usually tend to fill this time with schoolwork, writing, or reading Games of Thrones, I might even schedule a few Skype sessions, but more frequent than not my internet decides to stop working and I end up on one of Sansa’s chapters and I begin to consider my life and where it is headed. But you can only go so far until feelings pop up. Something I have always buried down deep under the train track out everyone’s reach.
Now I know that this is not healthy, I have faced the consequences of hiding them away loads of times. And my friends would probably not agree that I do this but that is only because I have always been skilled at hiding the things that scare me the most.
Hiding behind my couldn’t-care-less persona, I walk around the world with smile on my face and attitude that is friendly yet innocent, making people believe I am naïve to most things. Which is a downright lie. The truth is that I know too much about how terrible the world is since I have experienced a good variety of hardship and the reason why I don’t tell a soul is because why would I want anyone to feel the pain I wish I never knew? But because of this choice I have also pushed away good feelings, like love. Yes, I love people. But I love them in a way where if anything ever happened to them a part of me would die with their soul. Never have I loved in the way that people write songs and sonnets about and sometimes I think I never will. And just so we’re on the same page I am not saying that I don’t think that there is someone out there for me, what I am saying is that when I meet the person I am suppose to fall madly in love with I won’t because I have trained myself not too. In the end, being the villain to my own fairytale.
Now this isn’t a post where I tell the cyber world everything I kept locked away for the past four years, but it is post for me to come to terms with the fact that I do this. And I hope that by writing this out and putting it on here for all the world to see that I will one day have the strength to let my feelings out and let people in.
Taken October 2012 under the train tracks of Garforth Station
Posted by Noting the Morning Dew at 4:00 PM