Write something. Anything.

If there is one thing I know well, it’s loneliness.

I know the warning signs before it stops me in my tracks. I can sense the dread that morphs into an all consuming grip, taking hold of everything until I become numb and unfeeling. I could let it take me and let it pull me under like a merciless tide. But I fight it anyway. While I emerge victorious yet again, it does not leave me completely.

I am familiar with the acidic taste it leaves me in my mouth. When there are no more tears left to shed. When the darkness of the night provides both comfort and agony. When I reach out into the dark and grasp at shadows. When I turn to look and there is no one there.

I have mastered the smile that masks my soul. I know the words I should say so that others won’t know. I am ashamed of this loneliness. I am tired of carrying it around like a grenade with its pin pulled out, carefully, cautiously and with much fear. Knowing if I lose control for just a minute, it will expose me for the fool that I am.

Loneliness is an old friend. It is also a bitter enemy. It mocks me for my helplessness. It traps me into thinking I’m better off feeling this way, like I am no good for anyone, or anything.

I ponder it yet again today, standing at the edge before taking one more step into the unknown.

What does one do when everyday feels exactly the same? The same faces would greet you when you get to work. The same food for lunch and dinner. The same songs playing on your car stereo. The same road to get back home.

I know how I feel. It alternates between comforting familiarity and a dread so bad, I find it hard to breathe at times. I wonder if it’s because I can’t decide. Perhaps when my hormones get the better of me, I give in too easily to the blues. I wonder if I am naturally depressed, genetically wired to be fatalistic and pessimistic. I wonder if I have to struggle against this feeling every single day for the rest of my existence.

Things are better nonetheless. I am not as angry. I almost never hate. Mostly I feel sad, thinking if this is as good as it gets. I have to force myself to dream of faraway places to comfort myself that someday I will get there and escape this monotony.

I know I have a choice. I choose everyday. I choose to smile when I feel like crying. I choose to be rational when my emotions wreak havoc inside me. I say the smartest things even when I wish I could scream at the top of my lungs.. Help me!

I choose everyday because I believe in fighting back. I believe in making the best of every situation. I believe in wanting to enjoy this journey, even if it’s completely different from what I initially signed up for. I don’t curse my fate. I used to, but not anymore. I simply hope for the best and seek solace in the kindness of friends and strangers. Some days I find this relief. Some days I don’t. Tomorrow comes yet again. I shall choose for another day, choosing to live despite the dread, despite the deadening familiarity.

She can’t explain it. No words could describe exactly how she feels. She didn’t want to even try, for fear that it would trivialize the thoughts that haunted her all night. So she kept it all close to her heart.

How could they even begin to understand the hollowness that echoed endlessly, the dull ache that made it impossible to feel anything. How could they know when she never showed any torment, any pain nor sadness. If she even tried to bring it all out in the open, she would unravel faster than she ever thought possible. She would come undone in the most tragic way. It is not what they signed up for, being my friends, she comforted herself.

And yet there is no hiding from that bleak reality. She dies a slow death everyday. She looks in the mirror and imagine saying goodbye with all these feelings unresolved. The need unfulfilled. The emotions trapped like a ghost, haunting the host.

She knows she lives in her own head too much but she can’t help herself. She doesn’t know how to do this any other way.

got something on the stove…

Why is it so hard to find love? We’re talking the real thing here. The kind of love that stays on long after the infatuation is gone. A love that endures illnesses, good and bad fortune and sometimes even death.

I admit I entertain the idea of love on a daily basis. I want to fall hopelessly in love. The kind that grabs you by the gut and refuses to let go. The kind that makes you abandon all sense of logic in the pursuit of this thrill, this rapture that validates your entire existence.

For once, I will not qualify this statement. No buts nor ifs. I want to find love, feel love, see love everywhere I go. I want that tingly feeling that takes my breath away. I crave that oneness, a sense of completion when you can just sit next to The One and imagine living in eternity. One minute to the next, when the world is good and whole. When hope lives eternal and all dreams become possible.

That picture. So familiar yet so distant. A house from many years ago. So many memories, a time so carefree and precious. They were young and the world was full of possibilities. Nothing to fear, only new adventures at every corner. They were bold and fearless. They were in love.

She looked at the picture and smiled. She forgot all that sadness that came afterwards. She was no longer angry. He was who he needed to be at the time. So did she. There is no use in feeling any guilt. A complete waste of energy.

She wanted to post a comment, something to let him know that she remembered. She began to type, then hit backspace. Left it blank once again. She stared for all of five seconds. The she hit “X” and closed the page.

It is completely over now, that chapter. Long past in the folds of time. There is no point rekindling what was there. No point in reminiscing in what used to be. It is all over now.

She feels no remorse. Instead there is relief that he has moved on. It’s funny how he still has that picture. She guessed he’s revisiting too, but without saying anything more. Indeed, a picture tells a thousand words. Most are better left unspoken.

..when you feel so much, you can’t even figure out the emotions. And thus, you don’t even know where to begin, how to process all these thoughts, as erratic they may be.

But I have to try. I thought it would pass. But it does not. I can’t avoid this any longer.

I wished there was someone I can talk to. Someone who wouldn’t judge me. Someone who would just listen without prejudice. But there is no one. None.

I make a living listening to others. I fix things, people, issues on a day to day basis. I am good at it. I consider myself very empathetic. Perhaps that is why I can’t begin to tell others about what I go through. I can’t bear to burden them with these thoughts that suppresses me, almost paralyzing my every move.

This site is one of the things that has seen me survived every setback, celebrate every success and more. The people here means a lot to me. I am sorry I have been quiet for so long. I think of you all often and and I am comforted knowing you guys are always here.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll bounce back. I always do. It’s scary not knowing what waits for me on the other side. But it is a journey I have to take. Reaching deep inside and sorting out these feelings one by one. Do i dare label each one? Can I figure out each cause? I hope I can but maybe it’s not as important as starting the actual process.

Now I can’t stop writing. But stop I must. I need to begin. Today, this very minute. No more hiding. No more turning back. No more.

I sat down and finally wrote the outline to the plot of my NaNoWriMo entry next month. It’s actually sounding quite good, so I’m impressed with myself.

yesturday i had a good evening. belly dancing was a lot of fun, the dance were learning is energetic and fun and the girl were doing it with is lovely
mum came round to do a bit of weeding as well for an hour so the garden looks much better and we might carry on tonight
also looks as though we might finally get the tv / phone / tinternet package we applied for ages ago as a rep turned up last night to talk about it and because i complained about their service originally we are getting a better deal
i love going home at 5 and having a nice evening and i cant wait for the weekend so i dont have to come to work, week off at the end of thi month/start of next month i really excited
i was happy last night but now im back at work feeling flat again, why cant i get a break? i want to busy job with ice people that i can do easily and not think about once i leave the office with these same hours. i am asking too much
GH wants to open a dance shop for costumes and shoes and stuff which would be awesome but we’d never manage to raise the capital

still feeling mixed up. how can i feel so relaxed and not worried at all outside work but as soon as i’m at work i feel rubbish? its surely wrong to not work want to be at work this much. my best mate GH is off all week so now i am desparate for my time off in a couple of weeks, but then at the end im gonna have to come back here