It's Nice To Have Options Even If

You Couldn't See The Key Around My Neck: It Hung Too Low Under Both Collars. But If I Leaned In Close, I Could Make It Out, Buried Deep Beneath. Out Of Sight, Hard To Recognize, But Still Able To Be Found, Even If I Was The Only One To Ever Look For It.

So Maybe It Wasn't The Fairy Tale. But Those Stories Weren't Real Anyway. Mine Were.

I Didn't Want To Leave Things The Way We Had, Unresolved, ... And Tried To Tell Myself He Cared About Me Enough Not To Look Elsewhere For What I Wasn't Giving Him.

I Just Can't Ever Be A Free Spirit And Just Relax. When It Comes To Work, This Is Good. I'm Very Disciplined, Which With Writing Is Often Half The Battle, Or More. But It Also Means That If I Want To, Say, Play Hooky And Chocolate And Watch Bravo All Afternoon, I Feel Horribly Guilty. I Wish I Could Find A Nice Balance.

It Was Like Discovering That Some Part Of You Wasn't Yours At All. And It Made Me Wonder What Else I Couldn't Claim.