So often I feel like air to others.

-

I guess it is my issue, not anyone else‘s.

But I feel like air. I am here but then I am not.

People have little time and patience for someone like me.

People understandably dislike those who push them away, even if it is because they are down.

But those who do the pushing, still need to feel human, important. To have weight.

But I don't.

Slowly I had started to disappear from this odd world of socializing contextual existence.

When I started this Blog I guess it was to converse with Stefan who no longer heard me as I stood next to him. My heart breaking, my voice became unimportant to him. He never read every post. Not sure anyone ever will. Tough the words I write have now become my way of setting them down to make sense of them. To let go of some of the confusion and pain.

Do I want them to be read? Yes.

By who? Anyone at this point.

I have some ideal candidates but they aren't interested.

Stefan. He won't.

My best friend. He won't.

M. He won't.

I wonder if they know I see who has come to read my Blog as they say they are reading.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Numbness' vicious circle.

-
I have taken anti-depressants for many years. What they don't tell you is how it lowers your libido. How it numbs your feelings. So why would I cheat in an online way, aside from the time the guy came to meet me here and I went too far, yet not all the way. I looked for kicks. Anti-depressants make you numb, only kicks get you to feel alive. I did try to stop taking them often but always got suicidal when I did.
Read more

Time stopped...

-
Everything around me stayed the same... His clothes, his stuff... Years have been spent with me here alone, waiting for him to come home. How annoyed I was when he would come later and later... Then he would go for long walks, 30 minutes, 1 hour, 2 hours, 3 hours... Whatever time he would come home he would go for those walks, always alone. I am used to sitting here in the dark. His entrance being my oxygen. I would start talking talking talking and all he wanted was silence. For no 1 to be there to annoy him. But I always was. Always awaiting him... Some want that, not him. I was nothing of what he wanted. I see that now. I regret being myself. I regret my choices. I regret my blindness... Hindsight, 20/20. Easy to see. I need my oxygen... He needs his alone time. I want no more time alone... I want no more time alone please...
Read more

An actual Pause.

-
I would have loved to hand him a remote that had a Pause Button on it. Here, push it I would tell him. Push it and enjoy your break. But don't forget to push Play when you want to come back to me. But don't just press Stop... When I went away by myself for a few days I bought 2 little clay birds. They are whistles. One for him and one for me. Blow this whistle the day you feel your love for me return I said. They stand beak to beak on top of a frame in the kitchen. One will remain silent and the other will await its call forever. Breaking them would make it easier... Why do people press Stop so easily? Because pushing Pause takes more work.
Read more