Sometimes I feel sad and have to remind myself of my life purpose. I am human and cannot deny my emotions. To be cut off from loved ones hurts, and I don’t think you can really understand what that feels like until you’re in the shoes yourself. Amongst all of the hard work, I still think of her… she’s in the back of my mind, and I can only wonder whether she thinks of me. I see her from time to time, and she ignores me…. because? She is running away from herself and her feelings, that which she knows to be true but hates the site of it because on some subconcious level she is afraid… of hurt…. of rejection.
That is some pain, to deny those you love, and honesty. She’s killing herself. Numb. “Addicted.” Not to any drug, but to self-denial. It preludes. And I am left to stand here…
I cannot walk away from something I know to be true, nor can I deny my feelings. For the longest time I always knew her to be so “alive.” Now, I don’t know where she stands, much less where we stand other than the wall she’s placed between us. It boggles me. I’m sure we’ve all felt this way – romantic heartbreak… at some point or another.. where the feelings that linger… and no matter what, they just don’t go away. Friendship, closeness, and the liking. Certain people in our lives stick with us day-to-day. And that’s when I ask,
“What’s my purpose?” I remind myself of why I am here, and it’s not to love you… my soul purpose is not to love you, but I want a friend… a kinship. And yet she runs and she hides… this song coming to mind:
How long will she run and hide and seek out the approval of others? And what about that journal, of hers, that I never saw… can she read mine? Does she have any desire to? Does she just write it off like she writes her own feelings off? …lost?
I always stood by her, and I always stood up for her, as she stood up for me, and after all of these years I have never stopped caring for her. We were so alike, two fiery redheads stubborn and as strong as can be. Driven. To succeed, to be the best. To be honest – with ourselves. To be role models. And we were… but “did she die,” I ask? Where am I? Without her, I feel lost in some way… like a part of me has died… I need that connection in my life.
And I just sit here, and I wonder if all of my words are in vain… to take away all the pain, I never drugged out. I never have, nor have I desired to. I stayed clean. I am clean. I always have been, and I always will be. I guess I just have to trust the element of fate in my life a little more and surrender to “What’s meant to be, will be.”