Journal, Diary, & Blogging / Just a letter IX
This seems to be the only way that I can communicate with you at the moment. I can say as much as I would or would not like to say and you can stop reading any time. That’s the only downside. I can say so much and perhaps none of it will ever be heard. That seems to be the case regardless. I’m always trying to tell you something in songs, in words, in actions or with the frequently flawed combination of my mind and my mouth.
You still refuse to distinguish between the reality of a feeling that contradicts a circumstance. That I can feel one way and be another, that I can feel such bitter anguish and still desire a happy ending is a true conundrum, an insolvable puzzle, but it is a far cry from hypocrisy. Trying to unite two frayed ends of rope is very different from tying a noose. Hypocrisy is a noose. In all that I am I am not a hypocrite. I have stood by one belief from our beginning to this. Even during this and the previous, albeit pale in comparison, times of acute suffering and the chronic frustrations that are their consequences, I have tried to be true to one belief and one love.
Rejection is something no one should have to go through. It is fundamentally very different from loss. Loss is concrete, and while specifics may be surprises, everyone will lose someone, sometime, somewhere, somehow. I grieve for your losses; they have been numerous and too close together and I don’t presume to know the depths of your grief, but I do know that rejection is not loss. Rejection is constant so long as that which was rejected exists. Time buffers loss and memories can be happy and poignant sometime painful but necessarily unavoidable. You will count me as a loss. But my love for you is forever rejected. Every memory that stirs my heart results in the agonizing realization that the best of what I had was denied as insufficient for the one I love. A disease now infects that love. The world says move on, get used to it, that’s life. I wish I could say that you would not catch this disease from me, that I would never reject you, but I’m sure that’s how you probably feel in terms of our friendship. I don’t want that; I am here. I wait for the call or visit that I’ve always waited for, that sign of interest, dedication, devotion, effort, or anything that says you want or need something in me even though I’m painfully aware that you’d rather cry alone and conceal what you think is a weakness from anyone. So I feel again that the onus is on me to try and reach out even though my hand is shaking with anger, my teeth are clenched, I can’t go more than a day without teetering on the verge of breaking down, and I feel that disease conquering the love I would have died for, the love I lived too much for, the now ebbing away with the drying streams of tears.
Consider this that reaching out to inform you that the you-shaped cavern in my heart, dark and vacant, is there nonetheless. Southern Comfort doesn’t fill it. God chooses not to. And no one else fits.
I haven’t changed my number yet. I haven’t moved away. I can work some weekends with a key so long as I don’t know the plans you make with others that you never made with me. I don’t know when I’ll find my voice or if the blood in me will ever find its way to enrich my life with a real smile but I will endure anything so long as you know that you are not rejected until you find me lost one day years from now and a subject of memories, some good, more bad, but with evidence enough that I did exist and tried my best to give you a love that you didn’t want.
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Found myself hearing this in monotone. That’s just me though. Love the ability to put it all on paper.
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The emotion and sentiment are evident in this piece. Excellent job of portraying them; love the analysis of rejection vs. loss. Also, next to last paragraph is awesome.
With that said, lots of grammatical errors to fix, last paragraph in particular is a huge run-on sentence. Easy to fix – break into several smaller sentences or add , or ; where and, but, or exist. You have other fragments and run-ons throughout, but the last one is where they stand out.
Great start.
I appreciate your style, it’s has a nice flow. and you create very nice images and metaphors like: “with the frequently flawed combination of my mind and my mouth.” Very nice!
Good job, keep writing!
Aloha!
I like it, dark, brooding and philosphical and strangely poetic.
I can’t really say much but the feeling, the emotion in this is incredible, its obviously from real experience and that shows through.
It is very real and very raw and very good.
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