Writing challenge day one.
"Ripped Apart."
Every day the same name clings to my tongue, refusing to let go, to fall off properly with out stutter, with out being filled with anxiety and fear.
It is the name that has been burned in my heart, and there are days where I have never been more thankful for this fact.
Yet there are days were I tear and thrash at the bonds that bind me to him.
Perhaps It is my existence that wishes to torture me.
For the events and circumstances of my life have painted my personality, and it is that pride that keeps me from uttering the truth, and yet.
With out my past being set as it has I often wonder if I were to fall for the same man. For I myself would be born a new.
It is the world that has bound us by the red thread of fait, yet it also holds a knife threatened to cut the line.
And that, as much as I crave to blame on others, I am at fault for.
For It was not my circumstances that told me how to react, how to adapt, to that which has changed me.
Often I find, when the storm of need in my heart has calmed, And I can gaze at my heart untainted by the life framed around it.
I see a softer love
Just as passionate, but more brave and pure, more amazing then anything i could have hoped to feel.
And I feel that I am doomed.
For unless the circumstances change, allowing a new chance for me to change with them.
I will for ever be the hand, wielding the knife.
That will rip us apart.