Abba, I don't know what to do, but my eyes are still on You.

A couple years ago, while I was in Jamaica, I heard a couple friends sing this song, unfortunately I cannot remember the name of the song, just a couple lines of the tune...
Peace be still.
Your Father loves you.
He will hold you all through the night.

Sometimes life happens too quickly, and things are over before we feel they should conclude.
Sometimes life happens too slowly, and what we want resolved is dragged over the rocks.

How many chances do we get when we mess up? How many times do we get to try to make it right again? Where is the line drawn for being compassionate and idiotic? When do we say "I'm sorry" and when do we say "goodbye"?
I thought I knew the answers to these questions, but I simply was not prepared for the wall I hit the other night, haha, neither was Whitney when the cell phone flew across the room at her and hot tears poured down my face, actually, I'm not sure anyone in the room that night knew quite what to do at that point.

I wonder if I am justified or if I am stubborn. It takes two to tango, but can the other truly be held responsible? I knew the ending all along, but I still chose to foolishly play along. I thought maybe I could change, haha, everything. I care too much. I try to fix things I think are broken. I hold on to hope, even misinterpreted. I dream. I forget that I'm just Amanda, and people can live without me. I hold on too tightly. So, I'm trying to let go. I'm trying to move on. I'm trying. Because I think that's the right answer, I think that's how this story ends. I don't have the courage to ask the questions. I don't think you have the answers. And I don't think either of us will ever understand. As long as I'm the one hurting the most, we'll call it even, over, done, because it's just safer that way.

So, unless I'm completely off my rocker, this is...

The End.
I'm sorry, goodbye.