Without the Fall
So I'm starting to wonder if spinster will be a good look for me in the future.....
For the longest time I've wanted love - I've craved love. I've had small tastes of it here and there but it was always ended up leaving a tainted and bitter after taste. Yet I kept going out searching for that right flavour - the one that would leave that delicious, lasting after taste.
But most of my attempts have found me putting it in my mouth before it had cooled off. My tongue is charred - scarred. I can't really taste much anymore. It's all pretty tasteless actually.
The excitement of something new has faded - I find myself meeting people I could really like under any other circumstances - but I always end up lethargic. And it's unfortunate that it's come to this because it's not fair for me and it's not fair for other people.
I miss meeting someone for the first, second, third time and feeling that excitement - the desire to see them over and over again - to explore this new territory.
I'm surrounded by images and examples of love every day - and when I see it I get sad - and then disgusted - and then a little sad again. Then I return home, to the safety of my apartment where any images of love are in my control - they can appear and disappear at the click of a button. I'm sheltered in a way, here in this apartment - the only other living thing being Misfit. I'm getting used to being alone - coming home to my own apartment, kicking off my shoes, falling on the couch and watching TV. Eating dinner alone. And then cleaning and going to bed. It's almost a nice life - nothing to bring me sorrow other than the occasional sadness and desperation of my own thoughts.
Do I still want love? Of course I do - I always will - but I think I'm starting to be okay knowing that if it's just me - that I'll be just fine.
For the longest time I've wanted love - I've craved love. I've had small tastes of it here and there but it was always ended up leaving a tainted and bitter after taste. Yet I kept going out searching for that right flavour - the one that would leave that delicious, lasting after taste.
But most of my attempts have found me putting it in my mouth before it had cooled off. My tongue is charred - scarred. I can't really taste much anymore. It's all pretty tasteless actually.
The excitement of something new has faded - I find myself meeting people I could really like under any other circumstances - but I always end up lethargic. And it's unfortunate that it's come to this because it's not fair for me and it's not fair for other people.
I miss meeting someone for the first, second, third time and feeling that excitement - the desire to see them over and over again - to explore this new territory.
I'm surrounded by images and examples of love every day - and when I see it I get sad - and then disgusted - and then a little sad again. Then I return home, to the safety of my apartment where any images of love are in my control - they can appear and disappear at the click of a button. I'm sheltered in a way, here in this apartment - the only other living thing being Misfit. I'm getting used to being alone - coming home to my own apartment, kicking off my shoes, falling on the couch and watching TV. Eating dinner alone. And then cleaning and going to bed. It's almost a nice life - nothing to bring me sorrow other than the occasional sadness and desperation of my own thoughts.
Do I still want love? Of course I do - I always will - but I think I'm starting to be okay knowing that if it's just me - that I'll be just fine.