Every day I asked for this to change, but there was a fear inside of me. A fear that made me question who I am and why I'm so capable of such horrible things. And every single promise that you whispered in my ear, that fear just kept growing until it consumed me. But I let that fear go, and I can see who you are. Your words gave me nothing. I've been running away for too long; I'm not running anymore. I will stand my ground and scream out loud: "My heart won't be yours."
This isn't mine, it's from one of my favorite songs, and possibly my favorite quote of all time from any song, because the implications are so powerful. We don't have to live in fear of what will happen when we do what we need to. There is nothing that we cannot live without besides God. The world will not end if we tell whatever is holding us back to get out of our life, if we tell it we will never belong to it. In fact, we will only be better for it. (The song is Empty Hands by Close Your Eyes).
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Useless Tears
I feel so alone. So alone. Even God feels like He is not here. My heart hurts. My eyes fill with tears. I cannot contain all of the sadness inside of me and it seeks to leave through the salty tears leaking from my eyes. As though they could really help. As though they will alleviate the sorrow within me, as though they will lessen it at all. What good are tears? They will not help my pain, they will never take away my hurt. My heart aches and my response is to cry? What good will it do me? What will crying do besides stain my cheeks with tears? How can it ever make me feel better? But even though I scorn them, I know I will not be able to stop them. I cannot hold them off for long. I can already feel this building inside of me, pressing outward on my chest, trying to escape, and then constricting upon my heart in an attempt to force the cries from me. And soon I will give in, for even these words do nothing to console me.
7-8-12 11:09PM
7-8-12 11:09PM
Outlet
I'd write about my life, as I've done since the beginning of the year, but it seems as though there is nothing to say. My life seems so empty now, so tasteless, so pointless, and any words I wrote about it would be the same.
I feel lost, like life can't go on, even though I know it will. Life always goes on the same. Always the same. Even though I don't want it to. I want everything to just stop for awhile, things to slow down, come to a stop, just for a bit, long enough for me to catch my breath. But it never does. Time goes racing on the same as ever, life goes on and I still have to keept trying to keep up with it because being left behind isn't even an option. If you're alive, you have to keep going. And I am alive, even if I don't feel that way sometimes. Sometimes my heart, my life, everything, feels so empty that I think I must have died. Or perhaps all happiness simply decided to leave me and when it did, left me only in possession of this hurt, this sadness, this emptiness. Oh, that it would all leave, all the emotion! The happiness is all gone anyway, why not just take away the rest and be done with it? At least then I would have peace. That at least could remain, because that is not an emotion, merely a state of being.
I have nothing left to say, at least not for the time being. Words seem so useless right now anyway, for there is no way they could ever express the way I feel. It seems they never can. So why do I like writing so much? Why is my passion for something that doesn't even begin to describe who I am or what I think or what I feel? And yet, what could describe all that? Nothing could ever truly show who anyone is or describe their deepest desires, or explain their most heartfelt emotions. And so I do the only thing I know how to. I try to fit what I feel into words that, though they will never do my heart justice, at least begin to make my heart seen. I write. I put the things that mean the most to me in words that barely scratch the surface of what those things really are. But they give my heart an outlet, and that is why I put forward this feeble attempt - to make my heart feel better.
7-1-12 10:38PM
I feel lost, like life can't go on, even though I know it will. Life always goes on the same. Always the same. Even though I don't want it to. I want everything to just stop for awhile, things to slow down, come to a stop, just for a bit, long enough for me to catch my breath. But it never does. Time goes racing on the same as ever, life goes on and I still have to keept trying to keep up with it because being left behind isn't even an option. If you're alive, you have to keep going. And I am alive, even if I don't feel that way sometimes. Sometimes my heart, my life, everything, feels so empty that I think I must have died. Or perhaps all happiness simply decided to leave me and when it did, left me only in possession of this hurt, this sadness, this emptiness. Oh, that it would all leave, all the emotion! The happiness is all gone anyway, why not just take away the rest and be done with it? At least then I would have peace. That at least could remain, because that is not an emotion, merely a state of being.
I have nothing left to say, at least not for the time being. Words seem so useless right now anyway, for there is no way they could ever express the way I feel. It seems they never can. So why do I like writing so much? Why is my passion for something that doesn't even begin to describe who I am or what I think or what I feel? And yet, what could describe all that? Nothing could ever truly show who anyone is or describe their deepest desires, or explain their most heartfelt emotions. And so I do the only thing I know how to. I try to fit what I feel into words that, though they will never do my heart justice, at least begin to make my heart seen. I write. I put the things that mean the most to me in words that barely scratch the surface of what those things really are. But they give my heart an outlet, and that is why I put forward this feeble attempt - to make my heart feel better.
7-1-12 10:38PM
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