blah blah blah again

 i want to matter but everything around me says i don't so i'm trying to matter to myself.  

i have a handful of friends, none close anymore, my kids and my fur kids, none of which make me feel wanted, none of which can give me any sense of purpose or belonging.

i want to care about something bigger than me.  i guess i do and that's what's so hard.  i have no business caring about what i actually do care about.  

i try to step back and tell myself, "these are just feelings".  i try to replace one thought with a totally benign thought.  

i try to observe my thoughts and feelings rather than succumb to them.  it works for a minute, maybe a day or two, then i'm right back here, wanting, wishing, wallowing.  

somedays i hate my life and i hate myself for what i've become, for what i think i've always been.  

i want to be enough, for myself, for somebody, but i'm not feeling it.  

i can't live like this.  this isn't living.  this feels like a slow death.  

sometimes i think, "why not just get it over with", but there's that minuscule, dim hope that maybe somehow something might change.  

this love affair has done me in, lifted me then destroyed me.  without realizing it, i was looking for something to make me thrive and feel alive.  what a fool i've been.  life would be so much easier had i never known what it felt like to be wanted, to be held, to feel adored, loved and to be able to express all i had inside.  was it worth this pain?  no no no, a thousand times no.   

fuck you, fuck me, fuck my life again and again and again. 

no one wants to hear this shit.  not even me.  yet hear i am, crying, screaming, beating my fists and kicking my feet, spilling my guts, spewing pointless words and not a god damn thing changes.  so i do the dishes, care for the dogs, take a shower and play a part, pretending like any of it matters when none of it really does.  they are just motions that get me from one day into the next, without purpose, without intention with a shred of hope that they will get me to a point where something actually does matter.

isn't life supposed to be precious, have some meaning?  

i watch my daughter dying, dedicated to making the best of what's left of her life.  what strength!  i wish i could give her mine, trade it, give her more time.  more time to be with the man she loves, more time to live big and passionately like she knows how to...she would know what to do with it because i certainly don't.  maybe i never did.   

i want to find meaning and passion, but i know where i find those things.  i find those things in the one i love, the one i share intimate moments with.  i find those things in showering love and affection on the one i love.  i find those things in being loved and cherished by the one i love and cherish.  don't we all?  am i so unusual?  am i so foolish to want what i have known?  maybe i am.  maybe you only get so much in one lifetime...but i don't necessarily believe it has to be that way.  but then i think, i'm old, maybe i should just give up.  and maybe i should, but it's easier said than done.  you don't stop loving someone just because you should.  you don't stop wanting these things or loving someone just because you should.  if that were the case i certainly would.