feeling conflicted - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Your door is always open and so is mine, so why is it always I that must walk to you? You greet with a hug that could melt mid-winter snow and I feel so blessed to be with you. You talk like the dew on spring leaves and smile as if just that look could heal, but you never come to me. I want to run toward you, yet stay away. I want to be strong and nonchalant but I cannot be. I feel drawn in and that makes me want to pull back. My world without you is colder, but I'm accustomed to it. I wish you would just come to me, even if it was only once.
My love is charging horses pulling in opposite directions. I can no more abandon one than I could a child. Every one of them is important, every one of them part of my soul. The only option then is to find a way for them to charge in the same direction, to pull together. Problem is, I don't know how.
The trap springs shut - caught between opposing needs. The need to love and the need to nurture seem to go hand in hand, but what when you love too many people, what then? What when one side dislikes the other and your love becomes a stamp of disloyalty or worse? What then? We can no more turn off the emotions than alter the tides with wishes. So the only choice is to choose between your loves, abandon something precious and wait while it dies. Isn't it just one of the ways we break? One of the ways in which we pay the price of not invoking jealousy? Don't love that person; who do you love more? Always impossible to answer for I love in full measure every single time. So yeah, that's conflicted, about as conflicted as it gets.
Coming to you, to be healed by you, will break me. For to come to you is forbidden, yet to stay away is pain. So here I remain locked in love that brings sorrow, for my heart strayed where it should not and now my mind must pull it back to within the confines in which it is permitted to roam.
Your words rock my mind, leaving it moving in foreign ways, ways I have become unaccustomed to these many years. You are an echo, but one with the power to tear down walls I have built high and deep. So though I need you, want you, love you... most likely I will have to walk away. In our world emotions this strong are considered suspicious and I have more priorities to think about than the health of my heart and mind. Now, if that isn't conflicted, I don't know what is.
The mirror had that patina of age over the bronze frame, likewise the surface of the glass was splotched black in places. Kinzey stood and stared at himself, or at least the distorted image of himself. The mirror showed him the boy the world saw, all they saw, somehow it didn't seem right. Inside he was fireworks and rage, love and frustrations, ambition and fear. All they saw was brown hair and the kind of blue eyes you forget while you're still looking at them. He ran a finger over the frame, feeling its cool ridges and grooves and the layer of dust that clung. Perhaps he'd take it with him, it didn't belong in this old dump anyway...
I feel lost and confused, but happy and certain. I am like a ball of tangled yarn. The parts that are untangled are available, useable; the rest is a mess, useless until it is untied. That mess feels endless and at most times unyielding.
The playground that was mayhem at recess, abuzz with runners, chasers and all manner of games, lies almost silent. Only the drone of traffic gives a backdrop of noise. In the middle of the aging blacktop lies the hopscotch grid. I can almost see the custodian grumbling just to paint it. I must have hopped my way over hundreds of times, there were nights I could hear the hopscotch chants in my dreams, "My mamma said..." I'm too old to be here of course, too long of arm and leg, too "teenage." But there is something about this old school that brings me more peace than anywhere else. Here I can sink back to childhood for moment and forget the future and who everyone demands I become. I want to make them happy, truly I do, but if I told them what I really want, what I need, they'd never understand...