Empty

I'm alone but without actually being alone if that makes any sense. Not sure why I even formed that statement in a question-some manner because it does make sense. I can only speak for myself as I can vouch for none other, but I have concluded that surrounding yourself with a bunch of people doesn't fill the emptiness. In fact, if anything, it intensifies it.

Here I am, surrounded by a bounty of people, great people, so many people and yet I'm lonelier than ever. I'm not sure I can pinpoint a time I've ever not been lonely.

Have I always been lonely with spurts of a feeling that fills the void, or do I just feel spurts of lonesomeness because that's a part of human nature? I'd like to assume that everyone experiences this feeling at some point in their life but I also worry that maybe I am part of a select percentage consisting of all the broken and unfix-able people who feel lonely until the day they die.

I give endless chances to the wrong people and I push away the ones that are actually willing to stick around and help me sift through the ruins. I push people away that I can see myself opening my heart to because my heart is already an open sore, bleeding disappointment from the few people in my life that I can't seem to close the door on despite every bit of logic that tells me I know better.

It's as if I'm so used to pain that I've become content with it. That pain itself is what actually comforts me and happiness that scares me because it is so unknown. Now how could that be? You may be asking yourself how it's possible that one could be more welcoming to pain than joy, but we are a species of habit- if you were to become conditioned to pain and how to cope with it on a daily basis, you too would be scared to open up to something more. Opening up to the chance of happiness is standing on a tight rope in the Grand Canyon leaving it up to complete faith that the wind won't blow you over.

I actually believe I am afraid of being happy because anytime I feel even an inkling of happy, my world seems to come crashing down in ways I didn't see possible.

No matter how much I try to decipher my seemingly magnetic draw to pain, I can't figure out why I'd be more willing to open the door to a man with a dagger than a man with a bouquet of flowers. Regardless, I suppose I've gotten to the point in my life where I expect the worst and that's what I will get until I demand better.

That said, I'd like to say I know what my next steps to a better life full of love and void of loneliness are, but I don't. I'm frozen in time. I go with the motions day to day and leave my life in the hands of fate. I embrace the pain. I embrace the loneliness.

Upon the beaten path I am complacent in a state of non existent nostalgia.