Facts.

Fact - I have failed at many attempts.

Transcending - back - the steps I'd already taken to prove I had been before where I am right now.  Remembering - way back - about a year or so now to when we first met and I decided there was something about you I had to know for myself.  Choking - back - the emotions and decisions and blame I had placed on myself after you decided there was nothing left to give and gave up on me.  Replacing - that - with something else, it felt good, it felt right, and it was for a time.  Contemplating - bad - things that I knew all along yet repressed into the far parts of my mind where I knew they wouldn't be reached again for some time.  Breaking - up - was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, harder than that 16 page psychology paper in high school and harder than going four days without a shower while tent camping in Mexico, yeah, that hard.  Crap - now what am I doing with myself, tossing and turning around these stupid thoughts and wondering if they've always lingered or if they simply like to reintroduce themselves at the most inconvenient times.

Fact - I am a bad liar.

Beginning again on this road with no end, I'm simply worn out and my bags have become far too heavy to carry on my back.  Perhaps if I had some help, you by my side or even within arm's length so if you strayed too far I could still always catch you.  But reality settles and with that comes whatever precedes despair; angst, sorrow, perseverance, perhaps?  I know what I want and I don't feel like giving up this time, I won't forget and I won't pretend because the consequences are by and far too large for me to deal with again.

Fact - I know this is ridiculous.

WHO will even read these words, will take them to heart and ponder over them tonight into the early morning when they awake tomorrow?  WHO will stand up to me and say, "enough" that's far more than we've ever expected of you, time to forget now, and rest, and feel relief.  WHO would want such a broken and pieced together spirit, one that forgets who she is and tends to try and be what people expect of her rather than what she wishes to be?  WHO will put up with my mania, my constant desire for love and peace and commitment and fun and wonder and laughter and deep deep sorrow when it is asked of them?

Fact - Sometimes I wonder if my brain is a part of me or if it has the power to work apart from my body.

Fact - I will never measure up to whoever you're looking for.

Fact - It is impossible to pinpoint what it is about you that attracts me so desperately to you.