.Borrowed Thoughts.

I haven’t written in a while…So much has happened since I last did.

I was in a relationship that ended. The short of it was — it was unhealthy for both of us and my already low self esteem suffered greatly as a consequence. Gained weight and recently lost 50 somewhat pounds.

I now find myself in a position somewhat of unrequited love, although it may not be so much unrequited as just…complicated. Wrong timing? Wrong geographical pinpoints? Who knows… All that I do know is that it hurts. A different kind of hurt than what I experienced with my first heartbreak (which is somewhat documented here). A different kind perhaps because it has really affected many different parts of me. It hurts my soul on a deep level, because I feel I am loving on a deeper more profound, mature level. This is not just about love lost or love not conquered, but it is about the slaughter of innocence. My innocence. I view love with openness, fondness, and am willing to embrace it at all costs. This may be THE experience, to force me to view love in a more realistic, less idealized way. But…I don’t want to. I am fighting that with all I have in me and it is this fight that is leaving me drained and torn…

This love of mine… I can’t help but view her in this Godly light. Is this naive of me? Is this what disillusions me? The mere thought of her presence at times, has moved me to tears. My last relationship, I didn’t have these intense profound feelings and it felt empty, and somewhat depressing. I don’t want that…These feelings I have now, is what I always wanted. I have tasted the love I have always dreamt of … and it was nothing short of amazing. I am devastated that it, for the time being, has been taken away.

It is as if I am shown the most beautiful painting in the world. Hanging this painting up in my room and looking at it, touching it, makes me feel peace like I have never felt before. A rush of calm. Beauty. Love. Hope. Life. Now, the artist violently took away this beautiful picture, but every now and again I am able to catch a glimpse of it whenever she allows me to. So I feel calm for a moment, but it is for that moment only. Once it is taken away again, I am back to a state of sheer panic. Everything is chaotic. And nothing makes sense. I am just trying to get that beautiful picture back…where I feel it belongs. Where it is safe and revered.

But the funny thing about this piece of artwork, is that each time it is shown to me, it comes back more damaged and tattered from being moved around so much. Soon, nothing of the original painting will be recognizable. It will no longer have the same beautiful effects on me, unless I save it. But how can you save something that doesn’t want to be saved?

That analogy may be really terrible… but…it is all I can come up with for now.
I will end here. There is much else going on in my life but I have for a long time, severely censored myself, so that is all for now.

I feel through music…so take a listen:

Frozen Pieces – Milosh