I wonder why I cling to my Windsorite roots so much, there is a reason, almost ten years removed it's still the only place I've truly known peace and any real presence of self, I defined myself, by myself up there. Everywhere else has never been my decision. I'm frustrated here, I'm frustrated by the fact that all I do here is wander thru shadows and remember who I used to be, and what I've become, I made a choice, regardless of anything, the war, family, loved ones, I came back for a reason, and that reason will never ring hollow, I just wish that there was more to define me in the last ten years, this journeyman shit was supposed to end when I was 20, now I'm nine months away from forty and I still have nothing and don't know where I'm going. I only know that as long as I'm able I'll stay, I'll stand, I'll fight, but some days the darkness and the anger consumes and I don't see brightness and light, I only see hate and blood red anger, I have my reasons and the are justified, but even with all the good in my life, and all the good I do and all the good I could be doing, my defining moments for the time being were made by another out of anger, out of hate, I will never know why, but at least when it comes to her I know where I stand, I wish it was as easy to say the same about him.
I need to make plans and end the game whatever that is going to be, but some things that have always been in the back of my mind these last lonely years maybe they need to come to the forefront rather than me waiting for things to happen, it's chess still, maybe a stronger offence is needed. I need to get off my fucking ass and stop thinking defensively in this war, it's time to attack, I can be as cold and bloodthirsty as her, maybe now is the time to show that side of me, this has to end and soon, by her hand or mine, I'm fucking sick of waiting, I'm fucking sick of fighting.
The worst time is when I am alone at home with my thoughts, waiting, expecting an end, some absolution that never fucking comes. All I can be is angry and stomp around old haunting grounds that ceased to be mine two decades ago. I chose to leave my life here for a reason, the same reason I chose to come back, I look in my rear view mirrors and wonder was it fucking worth it, was the sacrifice worth it, in my heart I will always know the true answer, in my mind questions linger and the darkness and shadows overwhelm. I don't know the next step I only know the path behind, I only know that the battle will likely never truly be over and I may never be able to look past this battle, this war. It's a twisted reflection of who I wanted to be, who I am, a reflection of everyone that's poisoned my life, not that I have ever been truly innocent, no I would never claim that, but I fight only for the one that is, I don't care how much you have tried to corrupt him, my darkness is not his, it will never be his. I fight in the hopes that one day I can prove that to be the truth. If he hates me so be it, but I won't be alone in his hatred, I promise you that, I always have. He will have the opportunity to decide for himself, something you have never given him. Something I always will.
i shouldn't be feeling this dark at the holiday season again, but i am and i have to fucking deal with it so I will and i shall enjoy the things that I do have, it's just so fucking frustrating.
Current Mood: Frustrated.
There is at Christmas time a great deal of hypocrisy, honourable hypocrisy, hypocrisy undertaken pour le bon motif, c'est entendu, but nevertheless hypocrisy!
The month of December isn’t magical because it sparkles. It’s magical because it changes people’s hearts … at least momentarily.
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