Subject Matter Not Objective Matter

I am not going to write about her anymore on here.

I woke up this morning from a simple dream, recounting the time she came to see me in Colorado. We watched shooting stars, and she stepped on a cactus. I was stuck and slightly hurt by the needles I pulled from her razor-thin flip-flop, but I was very glad to be there.

Returning to the present: In fairness, the goal in describing my feelings on this blog was never libel. I hoped that she could read my thoughts here when convenient instead of me having to wait for it to be convenient to be listened to. And then she would see how very, very deeply she hurt me. And then she would do something about it. And then it would be healed. And then it all would be over.

But either she doesn't care, or she cares but doesn't want to do anything about it because it would be difficult. In my mind (and in that dream) it is worth being stuck and slightly hurt to fix the injury of another, and how much more so when responsible for it.

This wasn't just a normal break-up. I loved her more strongly than I have ever before, and she was more hurtful than anyone before. But we had made promises and pledges that went beyond words. Union and communions, made and shared. But now there is only sin and guilt to regret, and insults and contempt to forget. And it seems like it means nothing to her. And so it seems like I meant nothing to her. I wish she wanted to correct that assumption, if it is false.

But I suppose I wish a great many things.

I will keep praying for her. Most likely I will keep writing songs about this. But I won't write about her on here anymore.