Suddenly in Sorrow (once again)
Well, I was going to use tonight's blog to start publishing the first several pages of a short story I had been working on. The plan being: add more pages daily, in increments, since it is approx. thirty pages long...
However there were events that came about late this evening that have sent me suddenly into sorrow and melancholy, and sapped what little creativity and desire I had left over after working all day.
Why does it seem like each time I can finally start to pick myself, and the pieces of my shattered life up, to begin to want to grow and trust again, to regain a mere ounce of dignity within myself, that my faith in love intervenes and decimates the fragile grip I was just getting used to. I may be an idiot for it, but there are women from my past who I love and cherish in my heart. I carry their memories and my emotional ties to them with me each and every day.I allow them to forever capture a portion of my heart and to keep it long after I have gone. Actually there is just one now, and she deserves to say whatever she chooses about me, but God Dammit! she is almost freakish in her ability to hold out for the perfect and inopportune moment...the moment that always coincides with the beginning of a brutal and long awaited healing/ rebuilding process I so desperately need in my life. My soul is tangled within hers until fate or life sees fit to release it. All I know is I am tired of the emotional destruction that I bear on my shoulders. Its weight is about to finally make me submit...
I am doing fine though readers, no cause for alarm or to call the "funny farm" just yet, I just want to feel something other than self loathing and regret for a little while again. Thats all I ask...let me pick myself up off the ground and regain at least a little strength before the next attack comes from wherever it may...I am certain it will come though, it always does...it always does.
However there were events that came about late this evening that have sent me suddenly into sorrow and melancholy, and sapped what little creativity and desire I had left over after working all day.
Why does it seem like each time I can finally start to pick myself, and the pieces of my shattered life up, to begin to want to grow and trust again, to regain a mere ounce of dignity within myself, that my faith in love intervenes and decimates the fragile grip I was just getting used to. I may be an idiot for it, but there are women from my past who I love and cherish in my heart. I carry their memories and my emotional ties to them with me each and every day.I allow them to forever capture a portion of my heart and to keep it long after I have gone. Actually there is just one now, and she deserves to say whatever she chooses about me, but God Dammit! she is almost freakish in her ability to hold out for the perfect and inopportune moment...the moment that always coincides with the beginning of a brutal and long awaited healing/ rebuilding process I so desperately need in my life. My soul is tangled within hers until fate or life sees fit to release it. All I know is I am tired of the emotional destruction that I bear on my shoulders. Its weight is about to finally make me submit...
I am doing fine though readers, no cause for alarm or to call the "funny farm" just yet, I just want to feel something other than self loathing and regret for a little while again. Thats all I ask...let me pick myself up off the ground and regain at least a little strength before the next attack comes from wherever it may...I am certain it will come though, it always does...it always does.
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