...And it's all my fault

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost...I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it
I fall in again.
I can't believe I'm in the same place.
But it isn't my fault
It still takes a long time to get out.

I walk down in the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in...it's a habit.
My eyes are open
I know where I am
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.

-The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

I have walked down the same sidewalk and have fallen several times. I have broken both legs, was it my own fault? Yes. I am guilty of making wrong decisions, but this time; instead of giving up when all hope is gone, I will let the wounds heal and fight to walk again. At night when I dream I see my future and it's no longer in black and white, I have moved past that part in my life. I'm searching for the things that weren't there before, things that I missed by my own fault. I'm longing for the people who were not apart of my life, people who weren't able to get close to me because I wouldn't let them. What about those I have to let go? The tainted ones, the poisonous ones. The ones that you care for but they don't care. The ones that I love, I love, me...I love so much that it hurts, I love so hard until the tips of my fingers go numb and all my emotions are drained from my body. That happens after, when the poison finally sets in. When you learn that the ones you love don't love you back, they may never say it but they don't have to. They ones who, if they truly loved me, wouldn't subject me the their fatal stings. I don't need you to pretend, not for me anyway.  I opened my eyes and moved past that sidewalk. I'm not walking into anymore holes. I see them now for who they are, it's not like I never saw them, I just didn't want to. It hurts. Being ripped apart from the inside out. The blood has dried inside my veins and my smile has shattered into a million pieces. It hurts, and I cry. I've changed, for the better, come with me, please? There are always two ways to look before crossing the street.. I have finally begun to look in the right direction.