I was looking through my big red book filled with a set of entries i had written a while ago and decided to copy one of them down. This particular section was about a past relationship that believe it or not helped me out a lot. You see, everything comes with experience. Everything comes from somewhere. OLD ENTRY! Can you see my growth in my writing since? Hopefully you do.
He asked "Are you happy?" I stopped just for a minute to to really let the question soak in. I take a long drag of the cigarette that is being held from my right hand. I felt the feeling, just had no words to explain. First time for everything, right? I felt the ball make a tight knot in my throat and i could practically feel the hot tears fill my eyes completely so my vision becomes blurred but i refuse to let them fall. Feeling crippled, i drop the cigarette and it tumbles to my feet. I open my mouth. This time i hear the words. "At times, i think i am but in fact i have created this illusion built on the hope for improvement, but he never fails by his words or his actions to show me that happiness has been extinct from this house long long ago. I continued to believe that the harder i tried, miraculously one day it would all be fixed, that all of the tiny pieces would be placed back together like they once were. But it doesn't, of course it doesn't. So now its just the habit of forgiving and moving on. I'm left only to find that my solution to this problem only allows the cycle to begin again over, worst than before. Feelings of hurt, being used and taken for granted enables me to write. It helps find what emotions have been hiding deep inside of me. The more i hurt, the more i discover about myself. It helps uncover my strongest points, points of me that once before was completely unknown. The more i discover, the more i realize that i actually know nothing about myself. But at what point do you step aside to realize that its now no longer helpful but in fact damaging.