Dear Diary, Love Chris ... Pt 1.

Diary Entry 1

It's never been the heart that walks away from a bad situation completely shattered. Every day of lives, through good and bad experiences - the plethora of bullshit, surrounded by moments of sheer joviality - there lies a common factor in every scenario, every endeavor, every moment we find ourselves enslaved by: the soul...
  I sat there tonight with Annabelle pondering internally whether this woman had a heart at all. It was not until the final moments of our visit where I realized that I had been grappling with the wrong question. It is not her heart that has been broken, it's her spirit - her will to be a better person has been tarnished by the cruelties of this world.
  There are certain things she said which I will take with me to the grave; things that will haunt me until my last hour. Letting go of her is one of the hardest things I ever had to do - but the latter would have resulted in a catastrophic explosion which would have destroyed me. She has seen me through the hardest times of my very young life, and has exposed me to the harshest realities of her own. There is nothing I can do for her - and far less than that, still, which she expects from me. Our situation is not one which I wanted nor care to be in any longer. This is not to say that I don't care about her. I fear the extent to which I care for her - the lengths to which I would go to for her. I fear for my soul.
  The soul, I was saying, bears all the weight of all our deeds. I have been told that it's what separates us from animals - our capacity to feel with rationale and compassion. We all have a soul, I believe. It is through what it has been exposed to through our eyes that we either deteriorate into the doldrums of the dark or ascend into the majestic rays of light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, we do not always have a say in what life has in store for us ... Annabelle didn't have a say. Her soul was tainted by the darkness of this world - and it kills me that I could never remedy it, try as I may. I can never make this work.
  I wish for naught else but to be with her at this very moment - but I fear she may be repulsed by my presence. I don't want to fight her anymore - nor do I wish to continue living under a blanket of uncertainty where she is concerned. I neither know nor wish to know how she feels about me because I now know how I feel about her - and it's enough. I retire to bed, dear diary, knowing that I will wake tomorrow a free man - free of her. This is neither a good nor a bad thing; it is simply how the penny dropped.

Until my next post, then.

Christopher

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