Never love one who can't be the one loving more.

I don't really know what to make out of the whole affair.

Perhaps sometimes, you're going through the motions of doing things because simply, you don't remember how to function without the presence of it. You become dependent, because it is easiest to have them in place than to consciously make decisions alone. Its always comforting to have company, than to face the silence and loud thinking alone.

Yet somehow, its numbing. I don't seem to understand what I am going through; the consequences, the meaning. Its beyond words, of how comforting and yet upsetting the amour is always to me. There is always two extreme emotions I'm constantly feeling; loving belonging versus persistent angst. I can be shouting and crying and feeling like I can almost jump off the moving vehicle, and just seconds later the strong hand changed my swinging tandrum. Hating the decisions I constantly make yet swallowing my disagreement, for the sake of maintaining the belonging. Its almost as if I have to accept the inadequateness, whatever lack of it because I am supposed to be content with the little. And perhaps, because silent constant comparing makes the difference more gaping.

I have extremely alot of pride, that made me walk out aplenty of times. But to appease a bigger pride, I constantly bite on the embarrassment and turn around. It always happens. But this time, I wonder if I'd should return to one with a pride too huge to admit, or just one who doesn't love as much. As much as we're talking about limits, I don't know if I myself have walked the end of the road.

And like always, to replace a thing that sucks up your time, you just have to find things to get you constantly moving. Because once there is a space of a second, you make a move that you never think it through. That only prolongs the constant throbbing white pain.

I don't know what to make out of the Leaving. The length of time; neither here nor there, seems almost permanent. I'm so preoccupied riding the emotions of leaving that I can't concentrate on living the going.