How it's going to be, when you don't know me
How's it going to be, when you're sure I'm not there?
How's it going to be, when there is no one there to talk to
Between you and me?
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be?
I wonder
How's it going to be, when it goes down?
How's it going to be, when you're not around?
How's it going to be, when you find out there was nothing
Between you and me?
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be
I am finding that who I am now, who I am capable of being at any given moment is a vastly capricious thing.
I feel left out or unjustified in these changes. There is a great sense of unrest. And also one of insecurity. And a sense of resentment that lingers in the air for far too long. I want to take you with me, but I realize that maybe if I do love you now is the time to let you go.
I am categorizing myself, and as awful as that sounds it really isn’t. It’s merely a way of breaking myself down so that I may fully understand and come to grasp all the fundamentals, variations and analogous parts that make the cognitive whole. As much as I desire to take all of you with me I understand, somewhat regretfully, that that is simply not an option. So I am doing the only thing I know in this situation.
I’m letting you go.
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Blessed are they with a cherry smile
Who stopped by to chat a while…
Blessed are they that make it known
That I am loved and not alone
- Grace McDonald
