Torn

Barely a post a day a year. Barely enough.

Look at life. What is there? Is there anything worth looking at. Is there anything that means something. I wish, Simply that you'd understand my drunken thoughts. That you'd understand what is at the core of me. Where is life, where is love, where is faith and hope and all those other things that claim to matter but somehow pale in comparison to the lure of reality. We live, in spite of and despite the dreams that somehow fade away. What are we. Human beings that want to be more than who we are. The dream, the simple dream that leaves us scarred, scared, and spiteful of the life that we have been given.

I love a girl. A simple girl with simple hopes and simple dreams. I wish she'd understand me. I always thought that I've known. I've known that she who loves me should love me more than it'd matter. She'd understand what I am, that is simply put, the meaning of everything that i require from a person who is willing to love me. What is understanding? Simply, it is knowing with the soul. How does one differentiate between what is known by the soul and the mind? I sincerely believe that it is only when one's heart is in unity with the mind that one is true to one's self.

I shall be honest. I do not feel that way. My heart and mind are torn to polar directions since I've returned home. Home is where the heart is says a magnet on the fridge. Where is my heart, it's somewhere far away. Somewhere in Canberra where my love and I should be. I've thought, and worn holes in the carpet with worry. What am I, and what do I mean, where do I stand, and what do I stand for. I know what I've always known. I believe in love. I now know what it means to believe in love. Because a woman cannot attain nirvana, to love is to never transcend. To sacrifice immortality, to sacrifice what it means to be human in light of the here and the now. It means to feel pain and suffering, and restrict yourself to a world that you never belonged in for the sake of pure stubbornness. Simply because you believe in something other than yourself. That is love. Nothing short of sacrifice, nothing short of pain, nothing short of poetry, and the stuff God's are made of.

One year, is nothing, yet can be everything. A year can tell you if what you are doing is what needs to be done or something frivolous, a game, an amusement and a little piece of nothing. It can tell you everything, but in itself as a measurement of time means nothing in the span of the universe and what will and have always continued to exist. I used to think I was broken, but now I know, I am more whole than most. What does this mean in a drunken moment. Nothing.

I have hurt, and I know full well that it means to hurt. I know the maddening pain that comes with it. I know the depression, the lowest of the low, the sickest of the sick, the pit so deep that one cannot imagine getting out of it. And I ask myself all the time, why do I come back again and again? It must be madness. To fall, to sink into love, the comforts of the realm. We drown our sorrows like a people lost, in time, in space, in the greater reality of our circumstance.

Let me run away, run away form talking to myself and start talking to you.

I love you. I love you more than you can know. I love you like it's the single most important passion in this life. There is nothing that compares to what I am willing to commit to you. And as a god fearing man, I hope that you understand and appreciate that. That I am willing to give up everything for you, despite your flaws, despite everything that you are, to be yours, and with the hope that we will one day understand the mysteries of the universe together. That we will understand eternity together.

You tear me apart but you will never understand how.