Looking back, I know it wasn’t really wise to make promises that would either end up being extremely beautiful or kill me inside.
I never forgot them.
Maybe one of the reasons why it torments me sometimes is that I know that there’s a chance that one day, I’ll get really, really hurt because of them. Because I was the only one who made those promises. There’s a chance that my promises will be like gifts left dangling on the edge of nothing, abandoned and left to die. (That sounds like the makings of a sad indie song, and honestly how do I even come up with such tragic lines)
I don’t want to end up being a burden, a pain of the past. I’d hate for that to happen.
When exactly is then though. What exactly am I waiting for?
But it gives me some sort of hope. That I’m still trying. I don’t know.
AHHHHH this is so scary.
It still feels impossible that I will ever break that promise.
I’m scared I will, even though it feels impossible.
I don’t want to.
Is not wanting to enough to hold it?
It’s my choice in the end.
This is what I get for staying up so late and writing. Emo thoughts and things.
I’m like a totally different person after midnight.
Anyways, I think the best way I can keep my promise is by not thinking so much about stuff like this anyway. I’m just taking a vacation off to a land where stuff like this doesn’t exist so SHHHHHH Rachel.
Go to sleep.
And I should probably stop thinking about sad things if I can help it.