Anyone Out There?

I can't seem to figure out precisely what is wrong with me at the current moment, but my mind doesn't seem to want to take pleasure in anything, and for whatever reason it may be, no one understands how I feel, and I loathe myself for feeling this way anyways. The only thing which seems to soothe me now is my music, which I listen to with an alarmingly increasing frequency nowadays. I again feel as though everything is slowly crashing around me, and all that stands on the way of complete ruin and me is, well, me. Amusing, isn't it, that my crisis's never seem to end?

 

I feel as though the saving that I await, doesn't want to come, and that my perfect ending, the one that my father reassures me time and again is out there, and is coming, actually won't show up, and what is in my head will remain just that ; a dream.

 

I fear waking up these days, fear facing each day, and ending with the same feeling that I do everyday, which is that I am alone. I know I'm not; I have friends, and the most wonderful family that anyone could ask for. But the feeling doesn't leave. So what does that make me? Ungrateful? Well, obviously. But how can I be blamed for how I am led to think? Isn't this the way every young, nubile female thinks? Doesn't every young woman want to be loved, and looked at as though there was nothing before, nor will there be anything after her? I hate feeling so vulnerable to anyone, or to myself. But not admitting to the world is one thing, for to maintain a sense of decorum in front of everyone is absolutely necessary. Allowing them to believe that there is a way to crack my armor is the same as putting a price on my head. And not admitting to myself in another matter altogether. The longer I deny my feelings to myself, the worst off I shall be when the one I await finally arrives, whenever that shall happen. It hurts inside, to admit to myself that it is perfectly possible we shall never meet, and shall go through life missing all aspects of the perfect romance which may have happened. And yet, I cannot let go of the hope that he is there, and will sweep me off my feet in the most beautiful and unique way possible. I need that chest, to rest my head on, and to listen to his heartbeat that will soothe my soul as nothing has been able to so far. I need to gaze into those eyes, and derive the strength to go on. I need those arms to encircle me and show me that the castle they build around me will never break down. I need to lean against that body, and know that no matter how much crumbles, I will be able to stand again. I need you.

Good Lord, I sound like a child. But I can't help it. It is so difficult to stay strong anymore. To do what everyone asks, without complaint, acting like everything is in the realm of my "doing" capabilities, when all I feel like doing is curling beneath the covers and admitting defeat. I need you so badly that every fiber of my being seems to shed tears, and the mornings and evenings have lost their luster and beauty. The sun is no longer warm, the moon no longer glows, and the stars no longer shine. The night is no longer mysterious; the day no longer makes me stand in awe. I need you to show me beauty again. I need you to remind me what life is. Please, come and hold my hand and show me the world that my eyes refuse to see without you. The most hurtful part is that I think of you with so much love in my heart, and I don't know who you are. You don't even know that I exist. Do thoughts like these traverse your mind? Do you lie awake at night and dream of me curling next to you with my hand on your chest, and your breath filtering through my hair, lulling me to sleep, while the feeling of safety and being loved permeate through my being until I am so saturated by them that there is no room for fear and shyness.

"You leave me breathless.

You're everything I need in my life.

You leave me breathless.

I still can't believe that you're mine.

You just walked out of one of my dreams.

So beautiful you're leaving me….breathless."