I haven’t much felt like writing this week with one thing or another going on. I had thought to write about the tests of torture I endured at the hospital but I am not really ready to put those ordeals into words. The feelings are still too raw.
Then a short while I ago, I came across a sweet little poem about “hope” on Facebook. It was a short ramble from the 1800s encouraging people to place their beliefs in some possibility without having a realistic clue about the likely outcome. Hmmm…
I think it is just pure bollocks! The whole concept is ridiculous when you think about it. I should set myself up to dream and aspire to something and leave it all to chance? I think not! It is far to unrealistic for me.
Now before you go labelling me as a pessimist, just hear me out. The dictionary definition of the word “hope” is …
“a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen”
Is that really enough? Doesn’t the fulfilment of one’s goals and desire require some sort of action? How can it make any sense to sit back and just want something but take no steps to ensure it happens? I’m sorry but it just seems too capricious to me. And too dependant on others.
Give me action! Give me control! Give me the power to guide my own life!
I can’t think right today. I cannot focus or concentrate. I guess it is no wonder that I am also lacking motivation. The heating is still not fixed. I don’t know why that has my spirits down. I feel like life is at a standstill until it is repaired. I had wanted to do some grocery shopping yesterday but waited in for the landlord to come. Their handyman came but couldn’t fix it. He called the landlord to come take a look as he thinks it is an electrical problem. Landlord never came. He didn’t call either. This morning I got a text that someone else will be round this afternoon. So I am waiting in again to try and avoid another cold night.
It wasn’t the cold that kept me up last night though. My legs were painful and I couldn’t get comfortable enough in bed. But that wasn’t the main problem either. It was my mind running, thinking, and imagining. I couldn’t stop it. I tried reading as that usually helps but it didn’t. I tried playing a game on Facebook but it kept messing up so only served to annoy me. The last I looked the clock said 3.30am. I have no idea when I actually fell asleep. I woke up again at 9 feeling worse than before. The sleep had been restless instead of relaxing.
I had spoken to him on the phone earlier and couldn’t stop thinking of him ever since. Laying alone in our bed in a cold dark room, I reminisced about the nights he lay next to me. I tried to imagine him there – his presence, his breathing, his scent. I even tried to imagine his snoring which had kept me awake so many nights. My mind would not stop creating these thoughts. I tried to shake them off. I knew they were impeding sleep. But they persisted. Trying to remember how it felt when we cuddled up in the “spoons” position, imagining a repeat of the nights when he would say “I can’t sleep” which was his way (sometimes) of saying he wanted to make love … those dark nights of sleepy sex.
Last night I could neither stop the thoughts nor could I get absorbed in the fantasy. It was frustrating. It still is. Although these thoughts are not completely consuming in the light of day, they are still there. They are distracting me. I am still trying to shove them away. I don’t like allowing myself to dream. It is like wishing for something you have no control over. Blind hope. Dreams don’t come true for me. I get left yearning for something that will never happen.
For years I waited in hope. Especially that last year. But nothing ever came. Well nothing that I needed that is. I couldn’t ask for them directly. That would have only patronized my need. They needed to come all on their own. The longer I waited, the more convinced I became that I had been wrong in my thinking.
In the beginning, I was sure that my needs would be fulfilled. If I waited long enough, withdrew enough, goaded enough. That confidence fairl quickly turned into hope via the doubts that were abounding. The stage of waiting, hanging about in limbo under the guise of hope lasted so long.
Years of mental torment I suffered in this impasse. I blanked it out and withdrew more when it became unbearable. Eventually creating the fantasy world I previously wrote about and which ultimately led to all being lost.
Afterwards, I still stubbornly held onto that hope. I guess that has only served to prolong my own pain. It also meant I didn’t have to consider the repercussions. If I only focussed on myself, then I didn’t have to think about anyone else. How selfish is that? Incredibly selfish I would say.
But it is easier to say that now. I am in a different place. I can think beyond myself . It is hard to accept I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t worth fighting for. It still hurts a lot but I will heal eventually. I have to. There is no alternative.
It was just after xmas. One of the hardest days of my life. Every minute that passed I want to hold onto as tightly as I could. Yet at the same time I wanted them all to be over at once. I wanted it to be another day; one in the future as far away from the pain as possible.
We stood close several times that day chatting about superficial things. Physically you were only an arms length away but in every other way we were separated by thousands (if not millions) of miles created by unspoken words. My heart felt like it was in a vice, tears stung the corners of my eyes and sometimes I had to go off somewhere else when they could no longer be contained. Although I fought them as best I could, I cried several times that day but never let you see. How could I?
You were moving on and moving away. I had no right to let you see my tears. I had no right to speak the words that remained silent. You had made your decision and had to respect that. I wanted to shout and scream. I wanted to cry and beg you to stay. I wanted to grab you and never let go. But more than that I wanted you to be happy so I did none of these things.
I even told you so at the very last minute. “Take care of yourself and be happy” I said. Then I went into my house, up the stairs to the bathroom and cried some more. All the words I wanted to say swarming through my mind, taunting me … reminding me what a fool I had been. I had made the hugest mistake of my life 6 months before and now I was paying for it.
Those words still remain unspoken and with the greater physical distance between us that exists they torment me even more. My only solice lies in the hope that you have found happiness. Still, I want you to know that I am still here if you haven’t.