I have given up my Ireland for us. The place of peace, of beauty in its simplest form. I have given up my hopes of a life that would be much easier, that would be careless. But I quit it all just for this one thing that was as unsure as anything would ever be. I threw her away, seeing no other way. Seeing nothing better that was waiting for me after that sacrifice.
And I didn't miss her for months. Until the wounds began to form, slowly, one by one opening wide, revealing what lie inside. The flesh that became useless, the blood that was running cold, the heart that stopped beating sooner that we expected.
I began to imagine my parallel life in there. Another "me" in there, back in her arms, feeling safe. A "me" without you. A "me" without the sacrifice of my home, my hopes and carelessness. Back in her arms again, reliving the childhood that would never end. Making me feel safe. No cares, no worries. Just life.
But I always had you. You to comfort, you to help, you to love and feel safe. And with time even that became a blur, a dream, an imagining just as it used to be before.
I came to the starting point of imagination. Dreaming one life and living another. Regrets were coming in and out. Leaving me thinking if I made the right choices. If you were the choice worth of giving up everything I knew. If we were worth of me quitting the safety zone. If all this platonic love was worth the jump into the deep waters that were waiting for me in a place so unknown, and so unsure as Poland was to me back then.
Now I know there is no such thing as the wrong choice or the right choice. Now I know there are decisions braver and safer. There's just people in love, ready for changes, and there's people who will never love- ready to give up nothing.
I made the brave decision. I took the step forward, to be closer to you, to us. To myself even.
There was never a time of baby-steps. I threw myself into all of this straight away, without hesitation, without over-thinking. I became brave over night. Because of you. Or at least that's what I thought at the start. Later I realised you needed me, the comfort of my arms and the soft whisper of my voice more than I needed yours since the life in here began.
This time we swap roles. This time you were the one seeking help, you were the one that was lost. Because your time of carelessness was running low and you were scared. And I understood that, because I went through exactly- or maybe worse- same thing a year before. But you couldn't accept it. You couldnt imagine yourself growing up honey, making me notice how much I-myself- have changed.
How I evolved from what I was in Ireland's arms and what I am here.
I started to need noone to help or to direct me what to do. I knew the solutions myself, I started telling you, or anyone else less about the things that were wrong. And there were less of the anyway, because I knew how to deal with them. Because instead of crying on the problem, I looked for solutions. And you were the opposite.
All of this, all of the life I knew in here, back in my Ireland seems to be a dream that was just taking place. That none of this ever happened. That my Ireland never existed, that my love to you never existed, that the happiness we had was never real. That all of this was a dream directed by you.
But I was the one to decide when to wake up. But it's hard. Sometimes I feel as if I was still being kept under the slumber. By you or by the arms of Ireland that will never be mine again. You took everything from me. Everything. My Ireland, my love, the life that was growing inside me.
You took it all, tearing the wounds wide open again. Making the blood freeze, the heart stop.
You killed the girl that was once yours. The girl that was so in love with the wrong world. The world she knew in Ireland. But you killed long ago- on the day she was leaving her Eire for the last time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S91lMr9TsVI&list=PL47835BDF5D113F07
And I didn't miss her for months. Until the wounds began to form, slowly, one by one opening wide, revealing what lie inside. The flesh that became useless, the blood that was running cold, the heart that stopped beating sooner that we expected.
I began to imagine my parallel life in there. Another "me" in there, back in her arms, feeling safe. A "me" without you. A "me" without the sacrifice of my home, my hopes and carelessness. Back in her arms again, reliving the childhood that would never end. Making me feel safe. No cares, no worries. Just life.
But I always had you. You to comfort, you to help, you to love and feel safe. And with time even that became a blur, a dream, an imagining just as it used to be before.
I came to the starting point of imagination. Dreaming one life and living another. Regrets were coming in and out. Leaving me thinking if I made the right choices. If you were the choice worth of giving up everything I knew. If we were worth of me quitting the safety zone. If all this platonic love was worth the jump into the deep waters that were waiting for me in a place so unknown, and so unsure as Poland was to me back then.
Now I know there is no such thing as the wrong choice or the right choice. Now I know there are decisions braver and safer. There's just people in love, ready for changes, and there's people who will never love- ready to give up nothing.
I made the brave decision. I took the step forward, to be closer to you, to us. To myself even.
There was never a time of baby-steps. I threw myself into all of this straight away, without hesitation, without over-thinking. I became brave over night. Because of you. Or at least that's what I thought at the start. Later I realised you needed me, the comfort of my arms and the soft whisper of my voice more than I needed yours since the life in here began.
This time we swap roles. This time you were the one seeking help, you were the one that was lost. Because your time of carelessness was running low and you were scared. And I understood that, because I went through exactly- or maybe worse- same thing a year before. But you couldn't accept it. You couldnt imagine yourself growing up honey, making me notice how much I-myself- have changed.
How I evolved from what I was in Ireland's arms and what I am here.
I started to need noone to help or to direct me what to do. I knew the solutions myself, I started telling you, or anyone else less about the things that were wrong. And there were less of the anyway, because I knew how to deal with them. Because instead of crying on the problem, I looked for solutions. And you were the opposite.
All of this, all of the life I knew in here, back in my Ireland seems to be a dream that was just taking place. That none of this ever happened. That my Ireland never existed, that my love to you never existed, that the happiness we had was never real. That all of this was a dream directed by you.
But I was the one to decide when to wake up. But it's hard. Sometimes I feel as if I was still being kept under the slumber. By you or by the arms of Ireland that will never be mine again. You took everything from me. Everything. My Ireland, my love, the life that was growing inside me.
You took it all, tearing the wounds wide open again. Making the blood freeze, the heart stop.
You killed the girl that was once yours. The girl that was so in love with the wrong world. The world she knew in Ireland. But you killed long ago- on the day she was leaving her Eire for the last time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S91lMr9TsVI&list=PL47835BDF5D113F07
