My Soul Hurts
Totally Private
Days pass and nights pass slower and still here I am...something gnaws at my soul, just digs at me...I'm presented with conflicting images - I see my friends and how they go, day to day, struggling with their solitude and loneliness and I see Roger, happier now than he has been in weeks. I see my relationship with Ryan and see how we are just bodies with no soul that meet.
There's no conciliation between these two, even tho they're from the same foundation...that human need for friendship, companionship, a lover, a friend, a mate, a partner or simply that need to not be alone. It drives some people, pushes them beyond the boundaries of normalcy, makes them pursue what can only be a pipe-dream, tilting at windmills and knowing in their hearts that they've already failed but stubborn enough to try and prove themselves wrong and somehow finding comfort in the depth of their self-knowledge when their dreams and hopes are unrealized.
I feel like I'm in the middle, somehow...I know I'm in there somewhere and at times, I feel like I'm able to rise above it, but it would be arrogant of me to say I'm beyond all this, to say I can be my own person and I can live my life however I please, and easily accept the fact that if I'm on my own while I'm here, so be it. There are days when I allow myself that illusion, when I can almost convince myself to believe that and just carry on with a brave face.
Denial is a great thing sometimes, it gives you a security blanket against reality and lets you believe anything you want to, including that you don't really need to be with anyone, that being on your own is a good thing for you right now. But, late at night, when you're wide awake at 3 in the morning because your mind just won't let you sleep with all those images of life, love, friends, heartbreak and your small, miniscule, slightly insignificant place in the universe and suddenly you wonder just how many people would actually show up at your funeral and if they showed up, would they bring dates? - that's when your blanket starts to fray at the edges and reality begins to work its way around those loose ends, blinding you with that harsh reality, no matter how far you bury your head under the covers, the blanket eventually comes to an end and your head is left open to the elements. And, with the street-light shining in your window, that orange glow lights everything, including the empty pillow next to yours and you realize that it really does matter...
Days pass and nights pass slower and still here I am...something gnaws at my soul, just digs at me...I'm presented with conflicting images - I see my friends and how they go, day to day, struggling with their solitude and loneliness and I see Roger, happier now than he has been in weeks. I see my relationship with Ryan and see how we are just bodies with no soul that meet.
There's no conciliation between these two, even tho they're from the same foundation...that human need for friendship, companionship, a lover, a friend, a mate, a partner or simply that need to not be alone. It drives some people, pushes them beyond the boundaries of normalcy, makes them pursue what can only be a pipe-dream, tilting at windmills and knowing in their hearts that they've already failed but stubborn enough to try and prove themselves wrong and somehow finding comfort in the depth of their self-knowledge when their dreams and hopes are unrealized.
I feel like I'm in the middle, somehow...I know I'm in there somewhere and at times, I feel like I'm able to rise above it, but it would be arrogant of me to say I'm beyond all this, to say I can be my own person and I can live my life however I please, and easily accept the fact that if I'm on my own while I'm here, so be it. There are days when I allow myself that illusion, when I can almost convince myself to believe that and just carry on with a brave face.
Denial is a great thing sometimes, it gives you a security blanket against reality and lets you believe anything you want to, including that you don't really need to be with anyone, that being on your own is a good thing for you right now. But, late at night, when you're wide awake at 3 in the morning because your mind just won't let you sleep with all those images of life, love, friends, heartbreak and your small, miniscule, slightly insignificant place in the universe and suddenly you wonder just how many people would actually show up at your funeral and if they showed up, would they bring dates? - that's when your blanket starts to fray at the edges and reality begins to work its way around those loose ends, blinding you with that harsh reality, no matter how far you bury your head under the covers, the blanket eventually comes to an end and your head is left open to the elements. And, with the street-light shining in your window, that orange glow lights everything, including the empty pillow next to yours and you realize that it really does matter...