Loneliness Postponed

It’s hard for me to separate what I want and the reality of the world.

It can’t be that way. It’s simply a delusion. A delusion I’ve chosen to indulge in for the past few months. I don’t know why I become so involved in the things I cannot ever have. The people who cannot love me back. I see that now. Though, I fear it’s a little too late. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt. I thought I understood it all. But I was wrong and naïve to its possible extent. And all I feel is pain. Pain from what could have been, had circumstances been different. Had distance not been an issue. It’s a difficult pang of longing because it was never something I had in the first place. Instead, I’m left with the “what if?” of it all. The question I am doomed to contemplate forever. Perhaps time with lessen its weigh on my heart. Maybe I’ll be able to move on and look elsewhere for my needs. But part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me is afraid to let go. Let go of what, though? I never had him. Not really. I had the idea of him. The possibility of it all. The desire to be nearer to him than any other.

I got carried away. Despite incessantly reminding myself not to. I knew it’d turn out this way. In the back of my mind, I knew it all along. I just wasn’t prepared for it all. I never am.

Cracks in the Ceiling

I am hesitant to type up my feelings. I'm unsure of what they are, at the moment. I'm undergoing a constant stir of emotions. These sentences aren't flowing together, which I can see, but I don't know how else to word it. In fact, the wording closely mirrors my own lack of rhythm and easeful sense of mind.

Sometimes I can see happiness and I crave it. Or at least a sense of contentment. My heart cries for such a feeling of belonging, whether that be a figurative or literal interpretation of the notion. And the truth is, I can put on a decent facade of being blissful in moments. Others scarcely see the anguish in my heart. And it's in those moments that I feel the most misery. Fooling others is not what I want, but I also do not wish to raise concern and be thought of differently. Now, I'm not saying people think I'm a naturally "cheerful" person, but they also do not know the melancholic pangs of my heart. It is not something I want others to see because it is not something I enjoy talking about. Instead, I am thought of as unemotional and detached from human connections. Which is true, in a way, but there is so much more to that.

I think feelings are wasted on people. At least the people I've come in contact with. I think I live in a generation of meanness and conceit, two characteristic traits I've often fell subject to. I've always found the saying "you always hurt the ones you love the most" to ring true in all areas of my life. Normally, in these situations, I chalk it up to an oversensitive flaw in others, in an attempt to make myself feel like less of the culprit and more of the victim. However, I later see how my actions or words were at fault but all too late and to the detriment of a relationship. Being that I am stubborn and hesitant to acknowledge my wrongdoings, I continue life without that person I love. I have never had problems making a fool of myself, I scarcely need the help of others in that matter. But I have also found myself on the receiving end of hurtful words and wounding actions, as we all have. I won't delve into them because we've all been there and I will spare you the long ramblings of my wounded vanity.

And here I am, not exactly seeing what point there was at all to this particular post. I can neither draw it to a logical conclusion either. So I'll just end it here, with my self-absorbed, lonely, and selfish musings. Ugh! I hate myself!

Lost Loves and Love's Lost

I have been mulling over a conversation I had with a friend a few days ago, lately. We were discussing why, even after years, we still feel things for past loves. Why those wounds, though not prominent, are still present.

I chalked it down to the fluidity of love. That even when one relationship ends, those feelings may not end. I have always felt anger and bitterness towards my exes, even the ones I broke up with first. I feel like each one took a piece of me that I’ll never get back. And though quite some time has passed, I still find myself being angry and hateful. They knew a side of me that not many people know, a sensitive side I scarcely show to anyone. I felt feelings that were true and real then, but seem like a betrayal to myself now. And so I’ve always longed to get those back. Every word, every idea, every feeling. I want them because they were once exclusively mine, but are now shared memories to a love now lost. What once seemed so real and seemed so promising became a dead leaf on the ground being kicked around without any thought. The heart and soul you share with another person is now but a strange apparition in each person’s memory bank. That is why past loves hurt so much, no matter how many years go by. No matter how much you love even a current love, you feel pain and suffering. Because even though it’s over, it’s never over.