Suffering

I guess I feel almost like she yanked my heart out. Though its not a surprise, what happened. I feel like I knew it would happen. Yet knowing something bad will happen does not make it hurt less, any less bad when it actually takes place. A part of you wanted to remain naïve and believe that you still had a chance to change fate. To work against the very order of things.

I suppose I say a lot without saying much at all. I feel like I have been betrayed by a woman that I loved the most. In response everything in me wants to villainize woman and write them off as being selfish and unappreciative. Even though I can label this particular woman this way I cant do that to the entire gender. Though I have rarely met a first hand example to prove other wise I know they exist, because I know of them from a distance.

I suppose I learned another lesson. If I ever have to go all out to prove my love then really want am I proving? What do I gain? And why should I have to go all out? Because I want to? Because I have to? Because I feel it’s the only way to get her attention? I made a mistake I think in allowing myself to get too close to someone. Slowly but surely I take all these pre-emptive measure to make sure I can never again be touched. I go by my last name, I talk little of myself, I never mention my gift, and l don’t talk about my past or share my feelings etc. These are all things I used to do, but slowly and surely woman by woman I withdrew myself into a shell.

I think I did the wrong thing when I started to look for something my family was not giving me. Love and attention. I was looking for someone to prove to me to show to me that I was worthy of love. I don’t know what has changed but I have since realized that I cannot look for those things in other people. I cant make other people love me. Now, for now I am content. Unlike previous times I was repulsed by the idea of being alone, now I am comforted by it. I am repulsed by the idea of having to share my life or my time with someone else. That’s odd, and I don’t know why that is.

I draw more peace and comfort from writing that I do from talking to a person. I would much rather sit and read a book than talk to a woman on the phone. Yet when I go out in public they are all I ever doodle about, sketch about, look at. I am fascinated with the idea of women. I am content to safely sit and watch in a corner tucked away from view, un noticed.

I feel as if this very well may mark a new chapter in my young life. A chapter where I go from being desperately wanted to desperately wanting to be alone. Maybe because I am disillusioned by what I thought it meant to be a good man to a good woman. Maybe because honestly, love, affection, and money is not all it takes to attract and keep a woman.

Maybe I just need to be alone now. Ah well…easy come easy go. I dig my head in the sand and carry on with my art. Let the world pass me by, I don’t care…let the world pass me by I am in my art right now.