I hate change. I prefer things to remain constant. Swirling around the same path -- never venturing or veering off. It makes me crazy to have things change, particularly if those changes come quickly and unexpected.
I have grown into a creature of comfort. When those comforts cease, it leaves me feeling a bit lost. I find that I have to scurry to try to compensate for those losses. Sure, I eventually find other things which fill me with warmth and security, but the loss and the feeling of flailing in the wind is not something I enjoy.
I am suffering from a loss right now. I am unsure why things had to change. Hell, I am not even sure when it happened. I could not, for the life of me, pinpoint when it died. Died it did, it seems.
When I realized it was gone, I was left with a bit of an emptiness. I am confused as to why it disappeared. I didn't want it to go. I wanted to nurture it, bathe in it and hold it close to me.
It didn't work that way. It's gone.
Promises were made, but they were false ones at best. I should have seen the transparency, however I was wearing rose colored glasses at the time, and all seemed genuine and real.
It was false.
It's gone.
With it being gone, it feels bizarre. I had lived with it for such a long time that it became a part of me to some extent.
I miss it terribly.
It is something that, although I will move on from it, I will miss it for the rest of my life. I will look back on it with a great deal of fondness and it will probably still make my heart skip a beat or two.
I wish it were still here. I wish things were the same.
I hate missing things.
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