Psychic Overload
A few nights ago, when the moon was a bloody orb, I was in a position to defend myself and explain part of my reclusive nature. After I was done, I was informed that I, apparently, am a bitter old fart. It is hard, tonight, not to feel bitter when I am so deathly afraid and indescribably alone. He is leaving, and I don't really know when he will be back. I don't know if I care right now. We were supposed to meet for lunch tomorrow, even though we'd both agreed we'd take a break from each other. But screw that. I am hurting both inside and out, and I don't know how to express the rage and total helplessness I feel. I pictured tomorrow being a fresh start, a way for me to ease the pain that is constantly burning within me. After witnessing so many deaths and departures, it is with feeling that I proclaim my right to be bitter. How many people have I seen die before my eyes? How many people has death/Fate taken from me? I have honestly lost count. Right now, I have no access to my piano, nor can I turn to the man who I'm starting to believe is no different from the rest. It is not easy for me to forge connections with other people. I can never truly open up. What my friends know about me is shattered, fractured pieces of information that is both abstract and puzzling. It is difficult for people to drag a straight answer out of me, and I believe even my parents have resigned themselves to never understanding the enigma that I personify. I feel like someone has thrown the switch to overload. He's gone, they're gone, everyone's leaving. I just...why? Why do they all leave? I can't bring them back, even if I can force myself to ask them to stay. I of all people understand about chances, once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. And yet...it doesn't feel right that they're all leaving at the same bloody time! Suddenly I feel as though it is not worth the trouble to establish connections and get to know people. What's the point? They all leave anyway. I want someone to talk to right now, but given the late hour...
It's not so much his canceling our lunch tomorrow, but the fact that he's leaving. Kaput. Finito. The end. My wounds are worsening, and although I have been tending to them, I suspect I am only delaying the inevitable. Inevitable. Perhaps I am a bitter old fart after all. I just don't understand...how can people gifted with empathy feel the touch of death and yet remain optimistic? Maybe there is a reason why pessimists live such short lives.
Even when they leave, some stupid part of me is hoping they'll come back. HE is coming back on Sunday, but that's not the point is it? I'll always be left here like a stupid leashed puppy while everyone around me goes out to explore the world. Waiting for him, waiting for the next big break, waiting for my angel to realise Heaven is a place on earth, dramatic as that sounds. Yes. Even when I'm seeing someone, I still recognise the fact that there is only one person who I know I love so far. Like I said in my previous posts, emotions are new to me. I don't always know what I feel, and half of what I do know comes from the people around me. I know I love him, but that's it. It's hard to capture something so intangible into words, like trying to catch the wind in a bottle. It just doesn't work. *sigh* Goodbye, contentment. Hello, depression. Let the dark age begin. Oh, and just fyi, my piano will be unavailable to me for a while. So there's another cause for celebration. Oh, angel. I've pined away for you for far too long. Will you come back to ease my pain, if you know how much I'm hurting? The purity of what I feel for you is something time cannot sully. I'm starting to calm down slightly. So people are leaving, I might lose one of my houses, and possibly my piano, in additon to my comfortable life. There. Most of my problems in a nutshell. If only they were as small, and therefore easy to bin away. Damn it. The bonewhite moon is drifting high overhead, lost in her own world, and suddenly I wonder if it's not such a bad life. A solitary one. Sure, the loneliness can be a killer. But the stresses of living and loving sure aren't a garden of roses. Ah, goodbye X. And R. I can't love another man when I've already given my heart away. I'll still be here when you get back, for our rescheduled lunch. As friends. And maybe I will go overseas tomorrow morning. There's still time to catch that proverbial last flight. It's just too lonesome being in Singapore all by myself during the weekend, particularly when there were dates and plans which had already been set. Say hello to the trash bin for me. I feel like screaming from the sheer pressure.
It's not so much his canceling our lunch tomorrow, but the fact that he's leaving. Kaput. Finito. The end. My wounds are worsening, and although I have been tending to them, I suspect I am only delaying the inevitable. Inevitable. Perhaps I am a bitter old fart after all. I just don't understand...how can people gifted with empathy feel the touch of death and yet remain optimistic? Maybe there is a reason why pessimists live such short lives.
Even when they leave, some stupid part of me is hoping they'll come back. HE is coming back on Sunday, but that's not the point is it? I'll always be left here like a stupid leashed puppy while everyone around me goes out to explore the world. Waiting for him, waiting for the next big break, waiting for my angel to realise Heaven is a place on earth, dramatic as that sounds. Yes. Even when I'm seeing someone, I still recognise the fact that there is only one person who I know I love so far. Like I said in my previous posts, emotions are new to me. I don't always know what I feel, and half of what I do know comes from the people around me. I know I love him, but that's it. It's hard to capture something so intangible into words, like trying to catch the wind in a bottle. It just doesn't work. *sigh* Goodbye, contentment. Hello, depression. Let the dark age begin. Oh, and just fyi, my piano will be unavailable to me for a while. So there's another cause for celebration. Oh, angel. I've pined away for you for far too long. Will you come back to ease my pain, if you know how much I'm hurting? The purity of what I feel for you is something time cannot sully. I'm starting to calm down slightly. So people are leaving, I might lose one of my houses, and possibly my piano, in additon to my comfortable life. There. Most of my problems in a nutshell. If only they were as small, and therefore easy to bin away. Damn it. The bonewhite moon is drifting high overhead, lost in her own world, and suddenly I wonder if it's not such a bad life. A solitary one. Sure, the loneliness can be a killer. But the stresses of living and loving sure aren't a garden of roses. Ah, goodbye X. And R. I can't love another man when I've already given my heart away. I'll still be here when you get back, for our rescheduled lunch. As friends. And maybe I will go overseas tomorrow morning. There's still time to catch that proverbial last flight. It's just too lonesome being in Singapore all by myself during the weekend, particularly when there were dates and plans which had already been set. Say hello to the trash bin for me. I feel like screaming from the sheer pressure.
posted by fallen angel at 2:35 AM
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