dear luci

day31 - something's missing

dear luci,

something is missing.

I grew accustomed to a certain level of hope and anticipation in my life. now, my days lack texture. I glide through them, not without friction or purpose, but without reason. I pass time just to pass time.

do you remember in primary school, no matter how good your week was, there was always that sense of elation, of achievement, when you made it to Friday night? even if I had nothing in particular to do, the weekend was like an oasis in a desert.

I don't get that anymore. I should, though, by all logic. I simulate a 5-day work week. I take weekends off. But Friday night rolls around and I'm sad, because the weekend isn't a reward, it's an obstacle between me and the temporary purpose I've assigned myself in life. I dread the weekends. at least during the weekdays I have things I pretend I need to do. but the weekdays don't make me happy either. they just make me busy.

I express this to people and they are so ready to tell me exactly what I'm missing in my life. get a hobby. start a project. find meaning and joy in being by yourself. I know they're just trying to help, and I feel so torn up inside that I can't just thank them and take their advice.

But I enjoy being by myself. and I can paint as many miniatures or learn as many languages I want and that won't change the fact that nothing brings me fulfillment anymore.

it doesn't change the fact that even with friends, I am living ONLY because the beating of my heart and the billowing of my lungs decrees it. what is missing from my life is far more profound than a hobby. far more vast than can be plugged up with lust or desire or companionship.

i cannot trust anymore that the usual peaks will accompany the valleys to add variation to my life. it is flat now. it is one solid, horizontal, perpetual line. it moves but only in one direction.

I'm not looking for someone to save me. I don't need to be told to save myself. it's more than that. it feels like I'm buried deep underground but there's something, something hollow on the surface, walking around with my face and my name. like an empty machine that's been left running.

here's to hoping I can dig myself up soon because I don't think I can keep going like this.

sweet dreams Luci

View original