raw and uncut just for you sweetheart..

"To my usual readers, once again I apologize for the noise, I understand this isn't our usual read and that we try to displace emotion to a certain point to not turn our solace areas such as these into a personal and emotional battlefield." - Ryan D.

Raw to your heart and soul, that's what this is, that's what it was, that's what the feelings were when they were displaced in certain positions that halted all feeling and preserved no remorse. I've been trying to write this so many times since it's occurrence, different ways, different passages, irritating paragraphs, as if I were constantly changing a map due to it's topography. I'm continually sweeping up the chaos each day from the aftermath of a girl: silly little thing as it may sound. A hit and run victim is what I am; a slow smooth Saturday night blitzed by a cold blind side, only to realize that just as it had happened the perpetrator disappears as a ghost with no fault or care.

I'll level with you, I am fucking broken.. Nobody and I certainly mean nobody could ever understand and comprehend the amount of destruction which was laid waste, time has no say in what heals but rather ability and skill. It's the tiny pieces in all honesty, the ones you've got to keep an eye out for when you're working on such a delicate project as to rebuilding your heart, controlling what surrounds you and what people can see but will never really understand. Struggling to place each and every piece back into it's faithful location, married to perfection, a fragile job, though these things are meant to be in order to push forward, push into a direction that matters more, not a direction backwards, not something of repetition but something so spontaneous.

In reality this could perhaps all amount to my own doing, I trusted someone that I should never have, I had placed them on a very high pedestal which they never deserved to begin with. Faults and blames could be passed around so much, though let's be sincerely honest, it all happened, there's nothing I can do to change anything, nothing I can do to repair the shattered mirror broken into pieces. Sadly though the fact remains, I see the fucking cracks, and they disgust me to the point of regurgitation, as if someone continuously pretends that they're not there, that they could hang this mirror in a very obvious and glamorous place.

She lied; honestly I can't determine the difference between her lies and her truths at this point. All I know are the falsities that she shits out, some how some way determined to fix the broken mirror. The lies weren't what hurt the most, but the simple fact that I took the fall for a truth fabricated by a silly little girl: though thank you, you've made me realize who my true friends are versus the ones of immaturity and lack of concern.

Which leaves me at this very personal and specific note to you if you're reading right now:

Don't call me, don't text me, don't leave voicemails crying that you "need a friend". Don't message from numbers that don't exist; regarding your "love" for my son and myself, don't think there's anything for you in my home, or with my friends, or with my family. Don't pretend you have some kind of connection here at all or that anybody could care to respond to your cries for help, I will not entertain a liar that feeds on attention. I honestly do wish the best for you, maybe you'll learn the consequences to the ruin of other peoples lives, perhaps you'll stop pretending to be blind to every single thing you've done. Whatever we had or was between us; I want you to break your bathroom mirror and then glue it back together, see it every morning, see the imperfections you've made, see the reality in it.

"just something raw.." - Ryan D.