A prayer to father time.

Cath...she stands, with a well intentioned man.

But is it enough to be well intentioned? I've, well, I've always tried to go into things with good intentions, but I've come to far too many impasses to remain so kind-hearted.

The fact that I could even stand to type that, is terrifying. I've recently noticed this sort of, transformation. Well, transformation implies I am letting it come, that I am thrilled to take it on, so I guess I should call it a battle.

I've never harbored foul thoughts, I've always been true of heart, but since about August 2009, things have begun to change. I'm a much colder person that I'll ever want to admit. That's the difference between want and need, though.

I'm not sure if it's Harper himself that sparked this, or simply the details. I remember looking into powerful green eyes, I remember tears forming, I remember feeling nothing but disgust. I remember thinking, "How dare you throw this blasphemy in my face." I remember running the next day, how the words "you told her that you loved her but you don't," played over and over again.

"Allison I can see myself marrying you, I want to marry you. You're so kind-hearted, so sweet."

What happened to that? I brought myself to a breaking point, where I screamed at another, denouncing the lies, and throwing his own problems in his face. When did it become okay for me to do that? When did I gain the right to tell another about the stature of their problems? I didn't. That's what's so... hard to handle. I've overstepped my boundaries.

I simply do not know what to think of myself. I miss when, well, when I would believe anything, and I mean , anything another person said. I miss when I would ask "what reason have they to lie?" maybe, I was just, an idealist.

Tyler called today, I purposely missed it.

Beyond that, the fear of losing a loved one is coming now.

I just have this sickening paranoia, that the one I hold to my heart each night, is falsely held to mine. He will see her, and it's going to happen fast, so I hope that he's ready. I wonder what thoughts she'll spark, or where she'll hit him when he comes... He is not mine. He will be sorely missed.

I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose, then to have never laid beside at all.

Oh, Inverted World.

If Winter Ends.

I'm sitting here, trying to decide on what I should write about. It's been about ten minutes now, and I'm still sitting here evaluating each thought like it's the writing portion of the ACT. Like, it's going to determine my life, and somehow set the course for what I'm going to with the rest of it. It's rather disgusting. However, I cannot stop doing it. My person is one that is never free from judgement, but I've never been ridiculed, well, to an extent.

I suppose I should just use this as the insertion to my worries.

He's a rather captivating individual. Funny that I've found him just under my fingertips, my hands almost grazed over his curls as I walked through those grown hallways. Regardless, he too comes with a story.

A love affair, as was to be expected... She's dark haired, with electrifying eyes. Eyes that use to be my friend, but have since begun to harbor this indescribable hate for me. She loved him, or as close to love as such as creature can comprehend. She is one that, feels gratification through touch, and such was the death of her. But enough about her, she is not what I came her to type about.

Him. He is, tall and soft spoken, subtle in action and word. His eyes are dark, but not barren, one could argue that they are filled to the brim, and such has taken their colour. Heart broken, as coined as that term may be, there is not better way to describe it.

Shattered, from his head to his toes, he walks on broken bones. She parades through their high school, unashamed, and throwing her stability against him. He walks through her old shoes, wondering if whoever's gratifying her knows that place just below the nape of her neck. Suddenly, he trips over the laces of these shoes.

Well, this too, is a tale for another time.

Back to another point with no end.