Dear Blogger,

The years have been good to us, haven't they? It's been a journey, we started out friends and grew into something more, and more, until... Blogger, this is a break up. I'm sorry, but while I love you— always have and always will— you don't contain the mystery and the joy and the sheer devastation needed to fuel this relationship anymore. And while I shall miss your extensive font formatting, it's not enough to keep me here any longer. You were my first blog, and what we had was grand, but it's over, and it's prepared me for something bigger.

That is to say, yes, I've found another blogging site.

Tumblr is ...oh wow, how do I say this? Tumblr lets me show who I am, and what I want, and its ability to transform those things into something greater than the two of us together is nothing short of everything that is love. Don't be broken hearted Blogger, I'll never forget you. Nor will I delete you (mostly because I don't think I want to save all 200+ ramblings I have written on here). Instead, I will always love you for what you are, and what you meant to my life for so long.

Always.

With love.
Angelique

What it truly means to be left behind.

And she settles down in her set morals in things she'd never say or do. But the world turns on without her, not corroding, not corrupting, but changing. Changing into something new, with new rules to play by and new religions to keep.

I have beaten you.

But it is a sad defeat.

Yet, maybe it's just a reprise.

For years we danced across these desolate months.

We've fought and we've danced, like the heavens' onslaught drenched from clouds. Our struggle against one another never gaining ground, never giving an inch. We're passionate, we're artists, each perfecting our craft. I hew away at rough stone to bring about the ruby in my words, and you,

You destroy me so beautifully.

You are in every blanket I drape around myself, like waterfalls freezing in their course. You're like the wind across still water; every ripple you make becoming waves, becoming words on distant shores. You're in every cup of tea I pour, slipping in and sipping out like careless insults to the very memory of something warm-hearted.  You twist and you turn, churning up the depths of oceans frozen over in seasons not appropriate for such behaviour. And when the icy waters break apart, the ice flows drift into new homes, resting in my fingers, weighing them down to pound out keys in words you're far more worthy for.

Not Unlike a Warmth

There you are, sitting there with your hands folded like a little kid in church, your eyes perked up and sparking waitng for my attention. There you are, with your sun-beam smile that I could see on the darkest of days, shining up any room you happen to be in. I could find you in any crowd, simply because of the aura you give off, the intense feelings of joy and affections that are almost tangible, that I could grab a handful of as you pass by.

You're like the sun personified. You're so bright and full of life giving warmth and you never fail to bring hapiness. I am blinded by you and in the world that you inhabit, there are no clouds that could block your light.

And so grateful am I to have known you and your brightness, your sunshine-smiles and sun-beam beauty.

A Long Time Coming

You're like a wish I hadn't known I'd made. You're the product of stars and dreams and divine intervention. A prayer never spoken but answered anyway.

You're lost continents, you're natural phenomenon, you're miracles and you're tedium mixed. There is no proper way to describe you, through rosy glasses half empty of love made liquid. You're things you never knew you needed until you had them wholly yours.


Until I met you, I didn't believe in stars. I didn't believe there could be beauty in the night sky, and I never bothered to look up. But the moment I met you, it's like a thousand light-bulbs flickered into life above me. And suddenly like light switches, I believed in stars, like I believed in you.