Sorrow Ain't so Sweet

How do you part with someone you have come to like, though you don't know them intimately? How can you say goodbye to someone who has come to mean something to you, when the feeling is not mutual? How can you let them know that you will miss them, think of them, and hope to see them again, when they aren't interested?

I don't want to part, but we must, and I am grasping at straws of a feeling I don't entirely understand. If I let you go, I am sure to never see you again, but I don't know how to let go while making you understand how I feel. I don't know how to say that I enjoyed every moment, that I wish it could continue, that...

I know I'll eventually move on, that this won't hold me down for long, but...it is something my heart doesn't understand. I know in my head, but my heart has yet to comprehend this thing.

Inside every person are two people; a 5-year-old child and an adult. The heart and the mind. One tends to dominate the other, and force it to do things. However different they are, though, they must depend on each other...

~Overcast

It all started with loneliness...

There's nothing wrong with feeling loneliness...it's just...it's hard to be happy without you. You, whom I have never met, already have such an effect on me. You captured my heart long ago; you stole my breath, my thunder...irreplaceable things all, and none have returned as of yet. I'm living in the type of story I hate most, because there is nothing worth reading.

Every day is spent thinking, wondering, "If only I could, If only I were..." My lost heart is something I can still feel, and I know it is invisibly shattered beyond repair. It gives the appearance of fullness and completeness, but in truth there is little left, and like the moon as it wanes, it is disappearing. Only, this time, there will be no new moon...

I am pathetic in my feelings, and I hate that it is so. If people were Mary-Sues, I would be one of the worst. No matter what I say, what I see in myself, my self-analysis, will be considered the ranting of someone who wants attention, and maybe part of that is true. Maybe I really would do anything for attention - I, who have stood in a corner all my life. What have I ever done that is "great" and worthy of attention, of love? I laugh, because I have nothing to be proud of. I smile, because I have nothing that anyone should ever want - nothing whatsoever.

I have nothing - at all. Maybe looking for attention is my way of compensating for what I don't have.

Either way, I fail.

~Overcast

Confusion

Don't tell me not to cry - don't tell me that it'll all be okay. It's not, it's not, and it never will be. Don't stop me from doing the only thing I can; don't try to hold me close; don't try to wipe my sorrow away with your touch. I'd rather be alone than try to be loved by you. I can't handle love, it's too much...too much pain comes of love, and I know it full well.

So why is my mind telling me one thing, and my heart another? I'm sick of being divided within myself, wanting something I know I can't have. I'm tired of having dreams and only that. I'm tired of longing for something that doesn't exist, and yet it's the only way I can go on. I shall be doomed to wander the world, looking for what doesn't exist, until I die, because what I pretend is better than reality.

The person I love most, want most, simply doesn't exist. And so I'll continue walking alone, continue crying unconsoled. There's nothing more for my heart. If I didn't know so well that it was whole, I would know it was broken. What a stupid, fickle thing, the heart. I don't even understand it.

Don't tell me to stop crying - don't ask me to quit. I finally found you, I finally understand. Just...hold me. For now, it's enough...

~Overcast

Not so Different

Funny, how we so strive for abnormality, denying that there should be anything normal and ordinary about us. When the words "weird" or "random" are used to describe us, there is a thrill that shouldn't be exciting. We so delight in being different that we romanticize things that are ugly and wrong so we can be "weird". Why?

Because "weird" becomes "accepted". Why do we so strive to make others laugh, even at our own expense? Because if they are laughing, they are not rejecting; if they find some sort of amusement in you, they won't push you away - at least, not immediately. If they're laughing, then we can laugh with them and have a semblance of a real relationship, if only for a short while. We strive for that "friendship" so desperately, like a dying sailor for a cup of muddy water; something that isn't pure in the least, but will satisfy, for a time. It's better than salt water, but after a time, it leaves that same longing for more that never is truly quenched.

What is "normal" that it is so feared? To be less than abnormal is a curse, and no one quite knows why. Under that striving to be recognized by being "weird" in the same way as other is a soul terrified of being left alone. Inside each grown person is a child, screaming for something he can't comprehend, torn apart by a desire to be himself.

Our world is made to suppress that, by teaching us we must all be the same; same hairstyle, same clothes, same manner. With every move we make to be "weird" and "random" we are longing to be like every other person. What a truly vicious cycle we are all caught within, and no way out without being shunned. If you're not longing to be like us, you're not worth being accepted.

Welcome to America and the world; land of the free, home of the brave - so long as you're just like us.

~Overcast

Unforgivable

Is it really so wrong to feel like I don't belong anywhere? I've never had any truly close friends...no one I could say would die for me, though I might feel that way about someone. I am finding myself severely confused, and an outsider; just that person lurking on the edge of the photo that you don't notice.

Yeah, that one girl...can't even remember her name. Doesn't matter anyway; she was nothing special. If anything, she was annoying; always laughing and hyper; probably one of the more immature people out there. She refuses to grow up; she doesn't understand how to be adult; she's stuck in Neverland, waiting for someone who will never show up.

I've never felt at ease when doing things; there was always the time when it would end looming over me, destroying any fake fun I was pretending to have. Why? Because when it's all over and done with, I'll be the one standing alone, crawling alone, living alone, while everyone else has their sunny lives to live, full of people who they can trust, people who understand them. I can say I'm glad that everyone has that - God forbid they should be cursed like me - but I know I'll never own such a luxury. While everyone is out enjoying the sunlight, I'm stuck on overcast, swathed by a moody, gloomy day, the type that you live through, sleep, and wake to the same thing, one more time over.

Is it so wrong to dream of something more? Is it such a terrible sin to wish for someone to love, to share dreams, hopes, fears, and joy with? Is it a crime to want to be needed by someone, and to need them in return? Is it wrong to want to be held? I find myself aching for a pair of arms, a person I have never known; someone I'm dying to meet, so I can finally live with them. How can I stand loving that person which I have yet to meet? Every day lived out in the hope that I will find them, and know and understand when I do?

...Is it so terrible to want to be loved for just being myself, and not putting on the act that society demands? After so many years...I don't know what "myself" is anymore. It's too deep within; chained to the bottom of a riverbed, undisturbed, unknown...

That girl I remember - so faintly - from days of sun and happiness and yellow warmth...Is it wrong to long to know who she was?

~Overcast

One Thought

A friend and I were discussing heaven...and I came upon the thought that someday, I'll be able to see all the people I've never met; my older sister who was a miscarriage, in particular. I'll be able to meet her and say, "I've been waiting my entire life to meet you." I hope I'm someone she can be proud of. I can't help wondering how different my life would be if she had been born, but I'll never know until I meet her, will I?

I wonder if I would be a different person today. How many people would I have never met, and how many would I have met that I don't know now? Would I even want to know? I'm not really sure yet...but I know if I would have had the chance, I would have liked to meet you, Naomi.

I want to mark this as a turning point in my blog. I want this to be a journal of my deepest thoughts that I never get to share with anyone. Maybe I'll address them to people, but who knows. It won't be silliness and games, though. I'm in a rather serious, autumn time of life...so expect a lot of moody skies and melancholy.

~Overcast