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Standing on the Nightside cliff
Aug. 4th, 2013 02:58 pmI'm having to deal with a number of emotional things and I'm not doing very well. Shannon, who does care and love me, doesn't know how to deal with it. Hell, I don't know how to deal with it.
See, it seems to me that there are lots of folks out there sad, hurt, broken, and their world is so much worse than mine. I have a job, I have my health, I have friends nearby that would come running to my aid if I just asked.
I don't ask.
It doesn't seem right or fair for me to be down this far, when I have folks who can read this who don't see enough light to laugh. I can still laugh, and I still find things funny, and there's a buoyancy in my heart that keeps my head above water.
I grieve for my friend Journiey, who is in constant pain, like Linda was, and can't find her way out. I grieve for my friend Heather, who is in a different type of pain and is having a hard time finding her way out. I grieve for my friend Sherry and Sandy, who lost someone who was legendary and strong and big in their hearts and they are having a hard time getting past that too. I grieve for Susi, up in KC, who is in a hole that keeps trying to cave in, and struggle though she might, she just can't seem to find the handhold. I grieve for my friend Tim, because he's struggling and Kit and Jack, who feel that I was so rude that they decided to write Shannon off as a friend. And so, I grieve for Shannon, who has to deal with my grief, and doesn't know what to do. It angers her and so, she tends to avoid me, not knowing that a hug or a kind word or a hold of a hand means more to me right now than it ever would.
I stand on the Nightside Cliff and watch the lights of the city far, far below. The cars move and flash like little fish, shining and twinkling in the starlight. I see the lights in the buildings, and they come on and go off, semaphore like, telling the tales of lovers, and haters, and those inbetweeners.
I stand on the Nightside cliff and I look at the sky, all full of angry gray and swirly blackness. No stars are out, no stars are wanting to associate with me, either.
I am loved, and even so, I am alone. And you know, I feel like such a schmuck for feeling that way.
See, it seems to me that there are lots of folks out there sad, hurt, broken, and their world is so much worse than mine. I have a job, I have my health, I have friends nearby that would come running to my aid if I just asked.
I don't ask.
It doesn't seem right or fair for me to be down this far, when I have folks who can read this who don't see enough light to laugh. I can still laugh, and I still find things funny, and there's a buoyancy in my heart that keeps my head above water.
I grieve for my friend Journiey, who is in constant pain, like Linda was, and can't find her way out. I grieve for my friend Heather, who is in a different type of pain and is having a hard time finding her way out. I grieve for my friend Sherry and Sandy, who lost someone who was legendary and strong and big in their hearts and they are having a hard time getting past that too. I grieve for Susi, up in KC, who is in a hole that keeps trying to cave in, and struggle though she might, she just can't seem to find the handhold. I grieve for my friend Tim, because he's struggling and Kit and Jack, who feel that I was so rude that they decided to write Shannon off as a friend. And so, I grieve for Shannon, who has to deal with my grief, and doesn't know what to do. It angers her and so, she tends to avoid me, not knowing that a hug or a kind word or a hold of a hand means more to me right now than it ever would.
I stand on the Nightside Cliff and watch the lights of the city far, far below. The cars move and flash like little fish, shining and twinkling in the starlight. I see the lights in the buildings, and they come on and go off, semaphore like, telling the tales of lovers, and haters, and those inbetweeners.
I stand on the Nightside cliff and I look at the sky, all full of angry gray and swirly blackness. No stars are out, no stars are wanting to associate with me, either.
I am loved, and even so, I am alone. And you know, I feel like such a schmuck for feeling that way.
