No one's really sure who's lettin' go today

I thought it would hurt. Hearing about you that way. But it didn't. Was I distracted by something and it just didn't sink in? Or maybe it did, but the me "Now" just doesn't care. I hope it isn't the latter. I wish it wasn't the former.


Not that it matters. Because it should, but it doesn't.


I'm just glad it does hurt, somewhat. I haven't died inside if the pain still stings. I'm just numb. In shock maybe. "Reality cheque please!"
I heard a woman's tears of happiness today, because I did what no one else did, or could. I listened to and heard her. Her name was Eleanor. Contrary to popular belief, there IS a major difference between the two, and how each person interprets that is different. If I was dead, inside-out, I would have become one of the overwhelming masses that only hear the words, not the meanings ... only say the words, not the meanings. I'm glad it stings, it means I am still alive.

.....being alone..... being alone only hurts the person involved, no one else. And there are many, many Eleanor's' in the world, waiting for someone to listen, waiting for someone to hear them. The hurt isn't all that being alone consists of though. Being truly alone is being yourself. The only person that can hurt you, is you. The only person that can help you, is yourself. By listening, and hearing. Understanding.

To Hell with the hard ass. That's a mask. A shield made from broken dreams and sour memories. If you somehow look past that wall, the emptiness is never ending. I have my walls, my masks, my shields ... but they are made of the memories of "getting over" the emptiness. The only thing behind my mask is me.

This only leaves me with one question.

Why can't people listen with more then just their ears?






Ciao