Loneliness and emptiness. Where does one end and the other begin?

It comes through like the storm that it most certainly was and leaves like a whisper. There’s no telling when it will be back. We know it will in time though. For now there is an overwhelming sense of relief and a sharp sense of nothing. Emptiness.

This has happened on many occasions, and can happen even after something great barrels through my life. It doesn’t need to cultivate itself through hardships and introspection. It often is from any sense of emotion that is elevated above a low mumble.

I have spent the better part of a year figuring out what to do with myself and with the woman I felt so empowered to marry and start a family with. Trying to become a better man. An honest man. Now I figured out most of that equation. Half of it at least. There were so many problems to face, and still are, and it doesn’t raise any sense of pain or hopefulness in my.

I don’t know if it was because I moved, because I moved on, because I’m ignoring something, or simply because I find that there is nothing left for me to focus on. It’s most likely the that I am focused on the pain in my stomach from months of non-stop beer-drinkin’/coffee-sippin’/cigarette-smoking days. I don’t find much time to think about much else. Either some way to wake up or some way to fall asleep quickly.

I’ve drained out about as much emotion from my soul as possible. I can only imagine this is the dull noise created from pharmaceutical anti-depressants. Nothing excites me necessarily, and nothing makes me miserable. I am locking in to the noise in-between tragedy and possibility.

All of my family and friends have been giving me little tid-bits of advice. All generally speaking of keeping my head up. They look at my like a sick dog sometimes when I ask them their opinions on the problems I have been having with myself and with my life.

There is a specific amount of space and uncomplicated waiting when I listen to Miles Davis, “Smoke gets in your eyes.” For these strange periods where I feel nothing, I wish to hide in between those notes and wait until this unfeeling time passes. No golden ray of sunshine. I will always prefer feeling amazing to the pitch of loneliness but I would also rather feel completely lonely instead of empty.

Maybe because it’s the cold and I can’t feel my face when I am waiting for the bus. Maybe it’s just time to move on. I’ve simply forgotten what it’s like to try and be happy and I fear the risk of being let down.

 

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