It is not like I ever stopped trying. But how is it possible to ignore the small flashes that are the thuds of my heart? The momentary realizations that I might be alone again, and possibly forever? And yet, so relieving would this freedom feel, so familiarly good. I want to stop trying.

I want something, and somebody profound. Profoundly. Yes, the every day moments, but transfigured, transformed. To what extent can we accept our limitations? And even when they are destructive? Why can I not love the way my lover loves? Why does sadness clench my stomach?

If I could, I wish I could know why the people I knew took away their own lives. What was their inner pain, their most inward suffering? I think of them all the time.

I am no longer enveloped by the total darkness of the past, but I sometimes imagine myself falling down the balcony. Driving sharpness into my heart. It is so ugly I can only write it here, hoping somebody will read it, wishing everyone could hug me. At least I know now there is always beauty in this life, and I almost know now there is always goodness in me.

Yet, Godless still, I am left with sleep, and dreams, and fantasies…