novel four

April 18 2008

Why is it that I am afraid of love? Love to me is air, my natural willingness to trust and adore are my trademark. I love the people I love in their entirety and would sacrifice myself for them. Why am I in this place where my heart feels empty and the path seems dark and the world keeps turning and I just smile along? I am a comfortable person. I know how I feel. I pride myself on my ability to find my feet and my strength. And yet, here I am.
I have decided to withdraw into my shell and return to the water from which I came. Grind me back into the soil and call me your own. I am a useless poet on the stage of pointlessness and here I am declaring to whomever reads this that I am a whole human being with emotions and feelings far more complex than is to be seen, understood, or recognized. I feel foolish harping about my soul in prose, but I cannot deny the ghosts within me. You are so full of joy and wisdom and the eternal smile that I cannot do anything but realize you. I am afraid to love, afraid to fall, afraid to hold a hand, afraid to be with only one. And this, in itself, terrifies me.
I constantly wonder if perhaps just need to cry. I have not shed tears in months. You are a gentle being, with no assurances of falsehood or tender dreams. I bet that you sleep soundly and when you awake you do not remember what you have seen. Sometimes I remember you. I have so much love to give, why oh why can I not give it? Help me. I am lost, and crawling through this tar-filled valley.
Will you find my words beautiful? Can you? The answer is no.
I know not how I feel. I know not how or why I love you, nor do I know why it causes my heart to startle. I want to be a wayward sailor. I want to travel the world. Perhaps I am just one of those who only dream. Perhaps I will not be loved by someone who loves as I do. Maybe, there is no man on this earth who can see the beauty of the layers in my hair, or the way my eyes look like tunnels of light, or the way that their love will help me forgive myself. Will I ever meet the man that I will never have to apologize to?
One day I'll leave this place in my mind and I will be fine again. Right now, I am confused and scared as shit when there really is not reason to be. I search for a mentor through these times. So tonight, think of me, and whisper a prayer to the Buddha that my heart finds me once more. A romantic without love is like a poet without words, a soccer player without a ball, a hand without fingers, a heart without blood, a body without a soul. Breathe a soul back into me, so that I may allow my glowing energy to envelop you once more. Because I am cold.