Torn
My heart hangs heavy as I write this. It's been that way for over a moth now. Sometimes that is the way things are with me.
Coming upon the choices in my life I often feel like I am made to weigh a possible course of action between a selection of consequences that offer little happiness for me. The only thing worse I think is not choosing,.. allowing the things that happen to me to take place without me having invested myself into them.
I wrote a letter to an old friend the other day. Well,.. not that he is much of a friend to me anymore. The substance of it valued the memory of who he was to me, lamenting us not being that thing anymore, and thinking it best to keep myself removed from the situation. It hurt to write that handful of text. Not knowing how else to deal with his approach it was the most truthful response I could come up with.
I feel like a ghost in that regard, the remnants of a life that has grown still and far away.
Very far away.
We used to be very close,.. even so far as having defined who we were in the context of completing one another. Thinking of that makes me feel like I know something about dying. It was not as though we were perfect, the both of us hurt one another deeply even then. At one point he tried to commit suicide,.. at another point I just up and left for good (accomplishing much the same thing I think).
I am just like that I suppose. When I am hurt(which seems to be more and more) I just accept the hurt and then find a way to remove myself from the pain. I don't like hurting people who mean something to me and my own pain by comparison doesn't carry the same weight with me. Being alone with myself is an easier thing to bear than to become the inflicted discomfort on those that have mattered to me.
I think I have mentioned it before, but there is a pause I have before leaving out from the Trollhaim as the car is idling. I wonder if I will be coming back to the property,.. if lurking out there in the day is my end. I do not invite it, per se, I just feel the possibility of it lurking up the path a ways out there in the gloom of uncertainty. It's comforting in its own way to think one day I will end and have to no longer fret about how I am seen by others or to have to endure any more betrayals. It makes surviving the day and returning to my den to share the spoils of the day with my pack that much sweeter.
Not sure if I really have a point amid all this wallowing in introspection. I feel like recently a lot of things have gone wrong in how I deal with people and I am uncertain how to move through it to get back to the thinks I desire to accomplish. I don't want to hurt in the same emotional space that I have given over to my creative outlet. I am not sure how to push through to it though, or even in so doing how long it might last.
My greatest sense of accomplishment lately has come from absorbing knowledge, being useful to my pack, and spending time idle playing cards. It's simple stuff really, but it does keep that ghost feeling lingering at a distance for the duration. It could certainly be a lot worse. Maybe one day when all this is over I can sit down and compare notes with the older ghosts of the sabertooth and the mammoth and see who had the more fulfilling journey. I think they might understand me better than my contemporaries.
Coming upon the choices in my life I often feel like I am made to weigh a possible course of action between a selection of consequences that offer little happiness for me. The only thing worse I think is not choosing,.. allowing the things that happen to me to take place without me having invested myself into them.
I wrote a letter to an old friend the other day. Well,.. not that he is much of a friend to me anymore. The substance of it valued the memory of who he was to me, lamenting us not being that thing anymore, and thinking it best to keep myself removed from the situation. It hurt to write that handful of text. Not knowing how else to deal with his approach it was the most truthful response I could come up with.
I feel like a ghost in that regard, the remnants of a life that has grown still and far away.
Very far away.
We used to be very close,.. even so far as having defined who we were in the context of completing one another. Thinking of that makes me feel like I know something about dying. It was not as though we were perfect, the both of us hurt one another deeply even then. At one point he tried to commit suicide,.. at another point I just up and left for good (accomplishing much the same thing I think).
I am just like that I suppose. When I am hurt(which seems to be more and more) I just accept the hurt and then find a way to remove myself from the pain. I don't like hurting people who mean something to me and my own pain by comparison doesn't carry the same weight with me. Being alone with myself is an easier thing to bear than to become the inflicted discomfort on those that have mattered to me.
I think I have mentioned it before, but there is a pause I have before leaving out from the Trollhaim as the car is idling. I wonder if I will be coming back to the property,.. if lurking out there in the day is my end. I do not invite it, per se, I just feel the possibility of it lurking up the path a ways out there in the gloom of uncertainty. It's comforting in its own way to think one day I will end and have to no longer fret about how I am seen by others or to have to endure any more betrayals. It makes surviving the day and returning to my den to share the spoils of the day with my pack that much sweeter.
Not sure if I really have a point amid all this wallowing in introspection. I feel like recently a lot of things have gone wrong in how I deal with people and I am uncertain how to move through it to get back to the thinks I desire to accomplish. I don't want to hurt in the same emotional space that I have given over to my creative outlet. I am not sure how to push through to it though, or even in so doing how long it might last.
My greatest sense of accomplishment lately has come from absorbing knowledge, being useful to my pack, and spending time idle playing cards. It's simple stuff really, but it does keep that ghost feeling lingering at a distance for the duration. It could certainly be a lot worse. Maybe one day when all this is over I can sit down and compare notes with the older ghosts of the sabertooth and the mammoth and see who had the more fulfilling journey. I think they might understand me better than my contemporaries.