Pieces Of Me [an online journal of sorts]

Entry Sixty-three: promises

Promises, promises, so many promises. Unkept, forgotten, broken promises. A mountain of them cutting right through us, splitting us in half because sometimes we forget, sometimes we can't, sometimes we just don't care.

I can't keep promises, especially the ones I make to myself. I lie to myself everyday. I tell myself I'll be better, stronger, braver, smarter. I'll study more and eat less. I'll finally finish writing my stories, finally figure out what I want my life story to be. I close my eyes and imagine the days laid out in front of me, imagine that I might actually make it through them. I imagine meeting new people and going into new places and feeling like the world is a box wrapped in gold and I've just started pulling the ends of the ribbon that holds it all together.

But these are promises too big for me to keep. I threw them out of my head and out of my heart before they could get the chance to build a house in me. I've stopped letting them in, I've stopped listening. I don't want to hope. I don't want to care. I don't want to live with myself knowing I'm too much of a coward to do either.

I don't make promises anymore.

I can hardly believe it when someone makes me a promise either. I've made a habit of labeling everyone a liar because I can't handle being let down when they forget, when they can't, and when they don't care.

I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I could be more trusting of myself and the world. To let myself fall backwards into its hands and trust it wouldn't crush me between its palms. I wish I could be that brave, or at least not this afraid.

Promises, his promises, so many promises, broken words piled up on our floors. They cut right through me and split me in half because I know better than to think that sometimes he forgets. I know better than to think he actually meant what he'd said, or even cares.

I've made a habit of labeling everyone a liar, and one of them is my own father.