Set Into Motion Something New

What is to be done with me? I am tired. Alone in this world. I have, in part, given up on relationships. I don’t see how it can happen. Perhaps this is the suicide I have been aiming for. No offspring. That is a kind of death. No love. That is another kind of dearth of life.

Still… I long for the taste of it. Of love. Of being in love. Of finding someone who would love me as much as I love her. But who would that be? Who would have me? Who would have my weaknesses? Who would accept my failings? Who would condone my… me?

I am so used to seeing my negative that my positive has all but disappeared. I owe myself love, and hope. I want to get out of this unbearable life of poverty. It is poverty when I have to borrow to pay my bills, and I cannot pay those whom I borrowed from. It is a poverty of the soul that I cannot enrich with the balm of love…

I look at lmh, & I see someone so attractive, sweet, and positive, that I am drawn to her. Yet, I have to stand away, make idle conversation, or walk away. I cannot hope to attract her to me. Not in the situation I’m in. Not in the state I’m in. Who would want me the way I am? I think back to jld, see all the mistakes I made, and I know I cannot repeat them. I caused her, jld, enough pain and grief. I can only hope that I learnt from it to avoid such tragedies again. So I look, with melancholy at lmh, and know that whatever window of opportunity I may have had with her is gone. Not even slipping away, just gone.

The more I write, the more ridiculous it all seems. Haven’t I been here before? Why do I keep falling back into the same situation? Why can’t I move on? I know the place I’m at is entirely my fault. I have to want to move forward, not stagnate. I have to want to make strides in my mental attitude so that I can get out of this rut.

It is a loss of self. It is lonely not having anyone this time of year. There are too many memories of good times, happy times, that I am drawn to. I want to make more memories. More good times. Can I?

It is so easy to isolate myself. Not to put myself out there to interact. Pull into a tight ball that no one can approach. I am wound so tight that I fear that I will explode. But I do that, isolate myself. I always feel that I somehow don’t belong. Growing up, I didn’t belong. Even now, I don’t belong. Somehow, I am the outsider. I am the observer that is paid no heed. I can be told things because I am safe. I’m from there. But they say I’m from here. So I am in no man’s land. Does that make me a ‘no-man’?

I feel drained. Depressed? Probably. This is life at it’s lowest. Of course ef will tell me that I know nothing of that. I surrounded myself with people that suck the life out of me. I don’t know if I have ever known what is normal. Is there a ‘normal’? Will I ever find that?

There is a divorce to be had. I have to move on. I have to move on. I need to move on. I need to learn those skills that will help me move on. I need to do things that will help me do that. I cannot sit at the bottom of this hole and say I’m helpless when I do nothing to see if I can pull myself out of this hole. There are things I can do. That I need to do. This is just the first step.

I don’t belong in smn. I need to be doing what I need to do to get out of here. My Autocad. My writing. My Framemaker 6.0. Things to become a tech writer. Things to get back into aviation. This here is so much shit, feces, dung. I need to get out of this place. It is poison to the soul. It is poison to my soul. My life needs to be better than this.

—@—

I must have written that a few years ago. It’s interesting to see how much has changed, and how much has not. I still struggle, looking at everything in minutia, wondering if I am doing the right thing. Wondering if I’ll ever take that final leap of Faith.

Things have changed. I tried to remember who lmh is, and I just don’t. She must have been I was attracted to, but did nothing. I was still married then. Couldn’t do anything even if my wife and I have agreed that it was okay for us to pursue others. Easier said than done.

Have I said it before? I’m like a tame wolf. I have all the killer instincts, but I just don’t have the know how. J seems to have it down pat. He managed to figure it out, but for whatever reason, I am… clueless. The problem is it always seems like I make the wrong choice.

I also realize that J, in his trysts, is not looking for something long term, only for the immediate satisfaction of his sexual needs. He will never settle down… well, most probably will never… with one woman. He’s too used to having change, and just cannot see himself in a long term relationship. He gets too… claustrophobic. At least that’s what he says.

So why am I not like J? Shouldn’t I be wanting the casual relationship? Just to enjoy myself, and then just move on? Be the dog that all men are? Yet I’m not like that.

I guess the truth is that I’m an introvert. Put me in a crowd, and I’m likely to find a corner and observe everybody else. Talking to people is a struggle. It’s not easy for me to walk up to a stranger and just start talking. It’s ten times harder when it’s a woman I find attractive.

Yet here I am, spilling my guts out on an open media for everybody to see. It’s different though. This media offers you a sense of anonymity. Those that know you, know already what’s going on… or are surprised… but don’t say anything… Besides, I’m not talking to a live person that can complicate things.

Yet, when I look back at what I wrote all those years ago, I begin to realize how deep some scars are. What holds me back… is a lack of self-confidence. That stems from my feelings of not being lovable. And where does that come from?

An old friend and I just made contact on FB. He said he remembered me from Std 1. I know, however, that he really doesn’t, since he knows another 2 friends, and I only met them after Std 4. I was in KKB for Std 1, 2 and the first term of Std 3 before our family moved to the town I’m in now. I wonder if he’s thinking of J and remembering me?

Still, when I look at all the schools I went to in my Primary years, I have to start wondering if that was the reason I find it hard to make friends, or even maintain friendships. In the six years of Primary school, I went to four different schools.When you keep changing schools like that, it’s hard to form lasting bonds. Then, with the exception of the school in KKB, all the other schools I went to were all boys schools. Girls were… well, someone had the bright idea that boys and girls shouldn’t be taught together…

The girls I knew growing up were from the neighbourhood… well my sister’s friends anyway, but since I was only a year behind her in school, we would end up playing together…

The reason why I went to so many schools was that, growing up I was asthmatic, and my parents felt it would be a good idea that I should follow my mother, a teacher, then a principal, to the schools she was at. That’s way, if I were to have an episode, someone would be there to take care of me. That ended when my mum became the Headmistress of an all girls school. I, on the other hand, didn’t understand why I was not going to the same school my brother was.

What my parents didn’t understand was that, even at that young age I had an independent streak. My mother had fits with me. Like when, on a rainy Sports Day at school, she, the principal, saw me marching in the rain with the rest of the students of my sports house. It was like the more they tried to cage me in, the more I found ways to escape.

The easiest escape? Well, that was into my mind. I had imaginary friends, enemies, and little wars going on. Then I discovered plastic models, the kind you build, so I started to assemble an arsenal… They all managed to get into my ‘wars’… my mental soap operas… These were the ‘constants’ in my life. They stayed, while I lost friends, and familiar places. By the time I was in a school for a long enough time, the fear of making any kind of long term friendship was there… I had friends… well… acquaintances more like… but not any that were real true bonds…

I don’t know… It just became hard to get close to anybody… Hard to believe that they would be in my life for long… hard to believe they wanted to be in my life… hard to want them to be in my life… It was easier to just be on my own, and to believe that I didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things… That I wasn’t really wanted…

When you start thinking like that, suicide starts entering your mind. After all, if you don’t matter, the World won’t miss you when you’re gone. Another meaningless life snuffed out, and Life goes on… The best thing you ever did was to become fertilizer. At least then you’re doing some good… Besides, no one really loves you…

No one really loves you… How did I come up with that idea? I supposed it was from feeling like a pawn. I was moved from school to school. I had to follow my sister to everything she did. When I had a problem, nobody would listen. I was the good son, bringing the good grades, trying to please everybody… but I still was ignored, or at least felt like I was being ignored… Wouldn’t you, when you have severe stomach pains, and you had to be nearly in tears before they take you to see the doctor… and he says that you’re having Appendicitis… So if you’re not wanted… not loved…

The thing I discovered is that suicide is easy. It may take a lot of courage to overcome the pain, the urge for survival, the sheer panic the first few seconds… but once you’re past that, it’s a lot easier… to do the final act… I’ve been there… on a motorcycle, on a winding road in the mountains, taking a turn too fast…knowing that you’re not going to make it… then having to decide… do I go into the cliff wall… or over the edge… For a fraction of a second… the edge beckoned…

Life… choosing to stay alive… that’s a lot harder… a lot… especially when all you see is… emptyness… darkness… hate… contempt… or, the worst, being ignored… Nothingness… and alone… Grim, isn’t it? The truth is I was never alone… or never really not Loved… No I’m not talking about family, or friends… Somehow, I don’t know when, but I found a Light in all that bleakness…

Faith… A belief that despite everything that’s going on it will get better… that you do have a purpose… that you are loved… in a higher being… It’s what keeps me going. It’s what that has kept me alive all these years. That despite, in spite of how ugly I felt inside, how empty, how hollow… I kept going, always with the thought that I would disappoint Him if I ever did that act… He… Elohim, Adonai, Allah, Emmanuel, Jehovah, Yahweh… whatever you want to call Him… He has been that constant in my life. He is the one that I turn to every time when things were at the lowest in my life… and there were several… He is the One being that I know who Loves me from the beginning of Time…

People say God doesn’t answer, but He does. It’s just that they don’t like His answer, or they missed it… In the background, the evening prayers are being proclaimed… God is Great… God is Great… and He answers…

What can I say? I believe. You believe, yet you would say I wouldn’t want to know you more… I wouldn’t like it… I could say the same about me… that you wouldn’t like what you’d find out about me… but here you are reading about me… the plain John Doe…

In the end, the only thing that holds us back is Fear… Don’t you think I’m scared out of my wits writing this? I am, but I do anyway, because this was His Blessing to me… the nice guy… Someone who is more comfortable lost in his thoughts than with real life people… who is scared out of his mind whenever I see her… wondering… over thinking… but still trying to reach outside my comfort zone…  to something new…

Living… can be a lot scarier… than dying…

 

About rokuth

With a few exceptions, all the prose poems I have posted are at least a decade old. A reflection of some of the things I've lived through. New ones seem to be emerging, though... The blogs are more current. Rokuth = Ro(dney) Ku(lanayagam) Th(illiampalam) 'Khanahdhara' is actually a Sci-Fi/Fantasy story I'm working on.
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3 Responses to Set Into Motion Something New

  1. Pingback: Another big mistake? | Rokuth's Blog

  2. Pingback: What does it mean? | Rokuth's Blog

  3. Pingback: Blindly Into The Deep | Rokuth's Blog

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