letter to a future historian, the story of the present

you know what i have realized? I have kind of settled into my loneliness. after all the crying and all the agonizing and all the just plain wretched empty nights i have just kind of got used to it. i mean right now... i am just as lonely as i was before, but im not sobbing my eyes out, im not huddled on the floor in a heap of despair, im not tearing at my clothing or covering myself with ashes. i am just sitting here watching my abc.com in the middle of the night contemplating how loneliness is no longer a plague upon my everyday life, it has now just become a part of who i am. its not a sickness anymore, its more just like a missing limb, ive learn to walk without it. i dont know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. i think mostly bad though. deep deep down inside it feels worse, even though the symtoms dont rise to the surface. but if i were to sit down and think about it, as i am doing now, i realize that all i really really want is someone to come up and talk to me. someone to say "hey... who are you? i really want to know, tell me more. what are your dreams?" "oh really, thats very interesting. and what about this? and that?" i feel like i am stuck in a time box. i feel like i am stuck in a reality that will not change no matter what i do.

i used to kind of wonder if maybe i was sick or something. if maybe some of my feelings/symptoms could be explained by an involuntary illness contracted through some outside malicious force, i.e. the devil or genetic inheiritance. everyday it is becoming more and more apparent that i am not in control of these feelings, or the loneliness that creeps back in the second i take my eyes off the metaphorical emotional wall. thats the whole reason i even write this dumb blog, is i just want to talk to someone so bad. its sounds so lame and i know i have said it a hundred times but i am just so dang lonely. and i guess it feels a little better to know that at least there is a record of this loneliness so that when something happens to me someone out there will be able to find out why. when someone comes along who cares enough to ask the question the answer will already be there for them, the words i mean to say but never can will be written in virtual stone.