Caught in a storm

I’m naturally analytical. I’m aware of myself. I know that I have this ball of feeling inside right now. I can’t rid myself of it. It’s a ball of emotion; it either picks up momentum like a snowball in a blizzard or it just disappears, so it seems. I’m naturally deep, I think differently, I feel differently. It’s like.. love. It’s like a big ball of love but there’s nowhere to dispense it. You know? I feel tired but I don’t want to sleep. The best thing to do when this love-ball is all up in me is to sleep. Morning’s always make things clearer. There’s something mystical about the night, vampire tendencies, awaken to nothingness. Sometimes I’ll hug my dog, speak to him, he’s grateful for the attention but I wonder if he does think “Will you just shut the fuck up and man the fuck up?” That’s obviously my own subconscious, not his, as his would be thinking “Keep stroking me, yeah, just like that.” Love. I crave it as much as I reject it.

The boy I was speaking to last week, the bond we created in a flurry of overtly romantic late nights, has all but died for me. I can’t let myself go in a feeling, for me there’s a lot riding on being in love. For me to be in love again will need to be absolutely final as I presume it is being in a relationship that will then “out” me. It has to be worth it and the Greek boy just.. opposes all of who I am. He’s right wing, religious, insensitive and not really that open minded, structured by his own society.

I was in love once. It was full of absolute magic and absolute despair, the kind of despair that love entails, the type you can’t escape from, the type of despair that makes you feel human. I was younger though, less wise to the world and it’s because of that I think I was able to fully let go. It really did feel like flying. As much as I want to reject the notion of having somebody there constantly, it’s innate, isn’t it? We as a race have natural urges, at its most simplest, the urge to procreate. I know love isn’t a fairy tale, but it does make it more plausible to think this “ball of love” that’s trapped inside me is in fact the empty space where love should be.

“I can’t escape, it’s surrounding me
caught in a storm
that I don’t need no shelter from.”


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