Narnia. Neverland. Same F-ing Thing.

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing. -Socrates.

I know nothing. This I know for sure. I may think I know everything most of the time; I may have this dense little blog that was supposed to be about style and inspiration and trying to be a grown up with funny anecdotes about my dating life, but has now turned into the Chronicles of Love with an Accent - or The Dutchman, the Aussie & the Wardrobe, either will do - and I know I can seem preachy and bossy and lost all in the same sentence - because I am; but for the most part, I am just writing these words as reminders to myself. As some sort of proof of knowing something. Anything.
And then, after a long day in my brain - I arrive home and I realize - I remember - that I know absolutely nothing. I know this for sure.

I have made a terrible mistake.
I have made the right decision.
The latter. The later. The latter. The later.

... I wish it was enough just knowing that you are out there loving me but I have come to realize that it isn’t. I need to be able to lean on the person that I love - both emotionally and physically...I wish it was as simple as love conquering everything - conquering time differences, oceans, busy schedules... I wish it was as simple as just Loving someone… it has gotten to the point where I just can’t do it, emotionally. You are simply too far away. And my heart is broken...I will never stop missing you, I will not ever stop loving you. I refuse to forget you...

You are all I could ever ask for in someone to love, and to love me in return...

...I am so sorry. I love you.

-Me

I have made a terrible mistake.
I have made the right decision.
The latter. The later. The latter. The later.

Do you ever stop to wonder who will include you in their 'life flashing before their eyes'?
Or who will be in your own version?  I am watching a very sad movie.*
Who will include you in their montage of great loves? Or of great losses.
I am haunted by a single look he gave me, over and over. I do not doubt that I will be haunted by that look for as long as I can imagine his eyes. Which, I have no doubt, will be forever. No matter what happens in the next two, ten or fifty years, in my montage - that look will be there.

I have made a terrible mistake.
I have made the right decision.
The latter. The later. The latter. The later.

I don't know. I know nothing.


* 127 Hours