So if you're a loyal ready here then you've already probably seen how late this is. Sucks I know but well what can be done? Oh, well, I guess me not being a lazy a-hole...moving forward,
I had actually been looking forward to this "What's Up." You see, things have been afoot. Things I had been planning to finally get off my chest. Things to do with last week actually. You see, last week I went back to my hometown. I went back to the greatest city on Earth and though for reasons of legitimacy I really did just end up completing all of nothing but a renewed broken heart.
Last week, my first day in town, I meet up with a number of old friends I hadn't seen in years. It was, unnerving. My entire stay would've been were it not for the crazy but lets just address that later. It was uncomfortable to say the least but I pushed through. My life has been one giant mess of uncomfortable for a while now, sad to say. So we went into the city, a lounge, in effort to meet up with some friends I haven't seen in an even longer amount of time. Imagine to my surprise when one of the first people to approach me is her. The female I spent the end of my high school career and darn near half my college career obsessing over. Someone who, for all intents and purposes, was utterly unavailable. To me.
Let me preface this with something for a moment. We were close. We are still close. REAL close. I don't believe there are too many people left in this world who know me for who I was. But she, she knows what I was, what I became, and even shows some idea of what I am. She is amazing and she's the closest to love I've come in my life. I say closest because for me love is a two-way street. In my belief, if all parties involved aren't in agreement, it just becomes something along the lines of infatuation or lust even. All that said, she truly is so special to me, yet again, utterly unavailable. To me.
She's the first to approach me in the lounge. Not the first I see or who sees me of course, but the first to approach me. And she does so with a hug. She's drunk. I hold her in my arms and am instantly swept into those old feelings. My heart feels like it's going a mile a minute on a freaking bicycle. She warns me about something I'm too engrossed in her to register and then disappears back to whence she came. We, the "guys" and I, settle in to the little V.I.P. area that was set up and meet with some other friends who were there. As I'm debating what to do, sit or stand since again I'm still feeling that anxiety even though it had started mixing with desire, here she comes. Another dear friend from my past. On the plus side, she's just as emotional about my long overdue return. On the not so plus side, her "hug" turned out to be a slap. It hurt. Like hell.
Now the point of this isn't to tell the entire story of my "vacation" but rather to set the stage for this post. I spent all last week thinking about, yearning for, and acting on impulses to get merely moments in the presence of that dear friend I'd pinned over for so long, so long ago. I never actually stopped feeling for her but when she broke it to me about my unfortunate condition, I did my best to kill my heart so that it wouldn't make her uncomfortable. It was my nature to sacrifice after all. Just as the nomenclature I've come to identify with currently states. Empty Lamb. But this isn't about the darkness. Not specifically anyway.
So, a week goes by. I arrive the 12th. I arrange a meeting on the 14th. She catches on to the plan and makes sure to see me at 00:01, the 15th, instead. I make my way to the restaurant she part-times at on the 16th, and on the 17th I met up with another old and dear friend just to get stupid drunk and talk about her. I should've mentioned this earlier but she had told me she wanted to take me to the airport when it was time for my departure during the time we spent on the 15th. Unfortunately as the 18th approached she couldn't make it so I had to leave without seeing her one last time, with no idea of the next time I'd ever even make it back to my home state again. It was rough.
By the time my plane landed it seemed like the pressure in my chest was finally starting to return to normal. Homeostasis. Needless to say, this whole week, I've been thinking about her. Obsessing really. She still wants nothing to do with me in the capacity I'd always hoped for yet I can't seem to kill this. I know why of course. It's simple. Upon seeing her again, it was the first time I've felt those feelings in years. With the depression, isolation, and rage I've resided in, and have now been returning to, the standard numbness in which my soul resides.
Two weeks. For two weeks, so far, she's all I've thought about and I know that I need to stop but I also know that such action would mean to go back to the dark. I like being able to feel something other than the unbearable sorrow of a life of failure and regret. Even though this is as completely delusional as it gets, I feel as though I need this for fear that to let go would mean true isolation from the last vestige that keeps me in a place where I can interact with people in sincerity. It's something I've taken note of for a while now and simply put, I've truly lost touch. But, not in the generational way. My ideation has begun crossing fringe and is more than a little frightening, even to me. I fear I may not be able to make connections soon as I truthfully haven't in over half a decade now already.
In earnest I know what this truly is. It's the path I've chosen. It's where I chose to be but whatever humanity is left in me has the clearest of valid apprehension of such a transition. So now, in this limbo, we explore, we weigh, we wait till the choice has to be made.
Then, we step forward.