For each realization that hits me brings less and less of a sting and more and more of that subtle acceptance which I so wished I would never have to face... I never wanted to fall to the depths of despair and be helped up and out only by myself, God, and the occasional merciful act of a stranger or acquaintance... I wanted to fall and be picked up; I wanted my distrust of life to be transformed into a wonderful adoration of the human ability to connect to each other and remain loyal, despite all circumstances. I wanted the bitter tears I cried, waiting, to be recognized, respected, and ultimately conducive to the reinstitution of a thing un-began.
Instead, I was made to gradually learn that not all that glitters is gold- even if it once resounded in your heart as a truth that could never be adulterated or broken. I was made to realize that life, like death, is something that will always be experienced alone- though, of course, you may have your moments of higher connection and need never be devoid (nor should be devoid) of human interaction. I have learned that I can brighten someone's day, but not always their life... I can feel something with all my intensity and not budge someone else's will. This I have realized in the nearly three years since the era I experienced of mental isolation and bitterness at life came to an epoch when I saw the first blonde boy who I ever had liked.
The old meanings to my life are slipping... Nay, they have slipped away. Where once there was a yearning for an impossible abstraction, there is now a desire to explore and make better that which is more tangible. No longer can I with easy conscience call up an infinitely trusted friend; I must delegate all things (those day-to-day, or even once in a blue moon, occurrences that bring sorrow, shame, or anger) to their proper place in the scheme of life: oblivion. I do not despise God, nor His ways, though I do, at times, wonder at them. I do not despise those who have "wronged me," for they haven't, if only because I no longer wish to hold them to any of it. ( Besides, I have surely done twofold worse to them). Such is life..... Not "not worth living," but neither is it the dream I always wished it might one day be. It's still worth it. I just hope heaven is a lot more suitable to my tastes, if and when I may ever get there.