Androgyny

I know this.
I remembered everything now.
I felt this already.

The exact reason, I stopped caring for him.
I know where this would lead.
And I can't let it torn me apart again.
I must be stronger now, I can do this.

They say flying a kite was easy.
I tell them that it's not.

First, you need to make sure the kite is made of a strong material, against the birds but at the same time can withstand strong winds.
Next, you will be needing a string, long enough for your to hold, no matter how far it will get.
Then you may now let it fly.
This part is the hardest.
You run while slowly pacing and letting the string that binds the kite and your hand to loosen.
You run and run, until it flies in the air, and once it's high enough, you need to pull the string closer to you in order for it to fly higher and almost at the top of your head.
After some time of finally achieving your desired height of flying the kite, you may now tie it to somewhere solid enough to hold it.
Watch it sway.
This is the happiness  you conquer from flying it.
It stops your world, making you focus only to it.
Makes you forget all the hardships of flying it.

After some time, you would be recoiling back to reality.
Realizing that you have a lot of other things to do other that watching it fly.

You have a choice of leaving it flying there, in the sky. Unknowing, if it'll fall by itself or another person would try to get it.
Or you can manage to let it go down, pulling the string all over again to your direction until it falls to the ground.

Make a choice.
Making a choice from the two would mean another day or not.



And I am choosing to leave it there.

The perfect enemy

There are just times when you feel that everything is normal.
Normal day, perfect weather or a nice spot to start everything up.
When all of a sudden, it fades to gray then black.
Then everything became a total black out.
You can't see anything.
You don't know which way to go.
And no matter where you run, nothing is happening.
Nothing seems to move.
Nothing, exactly nothing was feeling good.
And every single thing is a full strange attack of absurdity.

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I just don't think I am ready.
Not ready to lay my hands on top of the heating pan.
Not ready to follow any other rules.
Not even ready to acknowledge all of my weaknesses.
Maybe, not ready for anything

Maybe I'm scared.
Still freaking scared.
Agonized by my past, still no room for tomorrows.
Still behind all my reasons and pulling them tighter around my arms.

I can't let go.
And I can't move on.
A lot of ifs, whys, hows and cants.
I just don't think I deserve happiness.

Or should I say, I can't really ask myself to struggle one more time.
I was strong enough.
And I can't let it be broken anymore.
I can't put my guards down now.
Now, that I've made all my bricks smolder enough not to break.

It can't break.
I can't afford it to break.
Breaking would mean losing the only thing that is left of me.

I'll fly away from here.
Now that I have my chance.
I will forget everything, stand up on my feet.
And leave my foolish heart behind.