Argh!

This is hard. Late at night in, a silent house, my thoughts drift to you and my hands to my phone as it stares me down, begging me to call you. Every time I do that it screws me up. The process of letting go of love when it's still alive... in both parties... is probably the single hardest endeavour one can undertake. Killing something that is living. Murdering love?

C'est la vie, c'est la vie. The past has faded to nothing and there's nowhere to go except forward. I am just too tired to go back and forth any longer. There are too many things I need a fully functioning brain/heart/mind/body to do! The limbo and the treading of water robs so much life out of me, I'm afraid of how this could end: a failed me, a decimated us.

Ah, but how I loathe the inability to see what's ahead. The ever present wish for someone to take my hand and lead me through the crazy maze of this life is always strong, but at the same time I relish this opportunity to fly completely unrestrained. We all need that sense of freedom to grow into our own skin. As different as we may be, you and I, we're birds of a feather and if we just give ourselves this time, we're going to be okay. Learning how to be right with yourself, by yourself, makes being with others work a lot better.

Must. Stay. Strong.

"But the greatest gift in the power of loneliness to bestow is the realization that life does not consist either of wallowing in the past or of peering anxiously at the future, and it is appalling to to contemplate the great number of of often painful steps by which one arrives at a truth so old, so obvious, and so frequently expressed. It is good for one to appreciate that life is now. Whether it offers little or much, life is now- this day- this hour - and is probably the only experience of the kind one is to have.

Solitude performs the inestimable service of letting us discover that it is our lives we are at every moment passing through, and not some useless, ugly, interpolated interval between what has been and what is to come. Life does not know such intervals. they can have no separate identity for they are life itself, and to realize this makes what has seemed long and without value both precious and fleeting. The fleeting present may not be just what we dreamed it might be, but it has the advantage of being present, whereas our past is dead and our future may never be born."


Nevertheless... ARGH!!!