I’m feeling lost; but not in the way I am scared of. Being lost when I’m like this is anxiety driven, but it is also exciting. Anything is possible and nothing is possible at the same time. If fortune works in my favor, I get what I want, which normally means that I receive the company I crave. It is very rare I do crave a person’s company…well that’s not true. I crave good company all the time, but my appetite is rarely satiated, is what I mean to say.
At this moment I feel reckless and impulsive. I want to drive down in my state and find her. Take her. Make her mine again. But I know it is wrong, based on two things: how strong my desire is, and how foolish I feel typing my desire on this document. I feel so lonely, and bored. I also feel as though I should cry but I can’t. Perhaps I am not as lonely as I could be….which is more of a fact rather than just a ‘perhaps’.
I wish I could walk to the water. Climb the streets to see the golden sun set into the steely bay. I want to watch the light warp and glisten against the tip of those small, gentle waves. I wish I could dip my feet into the warm Atlantic and feel comfortable again. The Pacific has been rather…shocking. I cry as I write this. How can I go from feeling so numb to so tender in the slightest instant?
These days I feel like I am all over the place. Barely keeping my head above the water. I haven’t swallowed anything I would choke on, but I am sinking nonetheless. I realize it’s all to make me stronger- the tears, the longing, the anxiety. It is to mold me for what is to come, whatever it may be. It’s funny sometimes, I often swing between believing that the world is a place of unexplained chaos, just a massive series of events happening simultaneously another series directly following another…and then the thought that I am supposed to be exactly where I am at this moment suddenly springs up. And all of a sudden I have a purpose to be here. And I always get the sense that I am going to be okay. That fluctuates as well, but not nearly as much. I hope one day I can find the proper balance.
I feel better, but not fully. I am tired and bored, yet still I fight the impulse to drown the rest of the whiskey in the house and walk out into the cool evening air for trouble. This balancing act is tough, and I don’t feel like I get nearly enough breaks. Guilt.