so so

i've so much i want to say

but it seems the ones i want to tell it to most,

don't want to listen.

i wish i would mean as much to you as you do to me.

you're lovely you are.

Here it comes,

brace yourself.

The big, soppy, realisation blog.

Were I delve deep into what I really think about people I have met, left and still know.

This all started when I opened the box.

The box which holds most of the meaningful things to me.

The box which keeps all the things over the years that I have been given safe.

The box whose contents are momentarily scattered across my bed.

If you got the opportunity to open my box, you would see some things that look important and others which just look like normal everyday stuff.

Except none of it is every day stuff.

If you gave me an afternoon to show you each and every little thing,

I would explain to you a very detailed story behind each one.

Most stories are filled with happiness.

Others disappointment and sadness.

Don't get me wrong, the sad stories started out happy,

But some were along the line something went wrong.

My box continues to grow each day,

it's gone from a shoe box,

To a wine box and now I keep the wine box in a bigger box.

It's not everyday I take out my box and look at the contents.

Some of them I want to take out and keep on me.

But is that holding on to the past?

Does it show that I don't want to let go of what was once amazing?

That's the thing.

It was once.

That amazing feeling happened plenty of times,

But I grew up.

We all did.

It grew apparent that people grow apart,

Fairy tales don't always end with happy endings.

But then I come to the question of should I throw these things out?

The things that remind me so much of what I use to have?

Shouldn't I be focusing on what I have now?

I think if I got rid of some of the items, I would risk throwing away part of who I am.

What made me, me.

If I made myself look cold, would you hold me?