I often wonder just what the hell goes through my head sometimes. Normally, I know my own mind very well. Recently though, it feels like somebody else has inhabited my head. I fear nothing, few things make me uncomfortable, and I know where I stand on almost everything. Yet here I am, balanced on the razor's edge. So what gives?
When anger hits people, many times we will say things we don't really mean. I did that Saturday night. And again, I hurt someone. As usual, it seems. Why??? Why do I hurt the one I love most? Why does anyone give everybody else their best attitude and affections and leave the crumbs for those closest to them??
I am tired. I am sick in more ways than one. I want only to give myself, but that self is broken, bleeding and unacceptable. Not worth the trouble to fix. Not worth the trouble to love. I want only one and because of that, am isolated from that one. Am I too eager? Or is it somthing else? I don't know and that is a cause of great fear to me. Fear, and shame. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to react? Where am I supposed to turn? Why did I let it come this far?
The road I am on is dark. The light has gone out. I keep getting tripped up by potholes that were started years ago and nobody bothered to fix. But I can't see, so attempting to avoid them is a fruitless and in many ways, an ironically hilarious exercise. I did have a partner at one point, though that partner is lost in the dark. The need to find them is as blinding as the blackness. My original goal is forgotten, honestly. The only focus of my heart and my brain is to find that which I have lost. I let go but only for an instant and now because of my ineptitude, alone doesn't even begin to describe my situation.
How can "I'm sorry" atone for that which I've committed? It can't, ladies and gents. I've broken a delicate human being. The psyche is crushed, the spirit is bruised, the man is bleeding from all orifaces. After having done this cruel deed, then I left him to bleed alone for a while. What kind of blackhearted creature does that? Not the same person who stands, or rather kneels before you today.
I lay my heart open, my soul bared, my mind available and my body as sacrifice. I too have been beaten and stabbed and whipped, though none of that matters anymore. I can't change the past actions, though if God would grant but one request before He takes me, I would change a thousand actions. Regardless of my intentions, the man in question has had his fill, apparently. His back is turned, his heart hardened, his mind cold. I know not how to regain his trust, affections or belief. So thusly I sit, on my knees, weeping and screaming at the dark.
