So is this how it's supposed to be?

A continuous stream of up and down and up and down; thinking I'm fine and doing better, that I'm finally over you, only to find myself thinking about you too much and wishing things were different.  That you had followed the right path, that we had met at a different time, that perhaps we wouldn't have met at all.  At least then I wouldn't be feeling like this.

We clicked so easily.  More so than I had ever done with any guy before, and on so many levels.  You were intelligent, you quoted poetry to me, you suggested an outing (which I very stupidly turned down because I don't get hints)....  We bantered back and forth, I made you laugh, made you look forward to the days when we saw each other (I looked forward to them as well)...

I knew we would never work out.  But I allowed myself to hope.  I allowed myself to pray and see if this was a thing that could happen.  I kept meeting with you, learning more about you and your past, falling in love with you.

At least, I think it was love.
At the very least, I cared for you very, very deeply.

You made me want things I never wanted before, never even cared about up until I met you.  Things like actually being in a relationship.  The potential for marriage.  Heck, even the potential of starting a family with you.  (And for anyone who knows me, that's big.)

And then one day, months after meeting you, you said the word "girlfriend" in a passing sentence, and I went into emotional shock.  I stopped hearing what you continued to say.  I felt like a part of me had shattered.

And that's when I knew I shouldn't have ever let myself entertain the idea of being with you.

Once upon a time a friend in high school told me that we can't control who we fall in love with.  I disagreed with her then, and I still do.  I am an expert at controlling emotions and suffocating them until they cease to exist.  They waste my time and energy, and I usually have no need for these superfluous things.

I could have controlled what I felt for you.
I could have forced myself to not care, to not think about you, to not explore the potential.
But I didn't.
And I still don't know if I hate myself for growing to care for you or not.

So now I'm back to where I was before I met you, but at the same time, I'm not.  Because, you see, before I was all about never wanting to be with someone, not giving the time of day to thinking about how someone out there could make me feel the things you made me feel.  But oops, you came along, and my perspective changed.  I am now aware that, perhaps, someone out there will be as intelligent and clever and charming as you, and will make me feel those things again.

So while I have reverted to having no desire to be with someone, to be married, and to definitely never ever have children, I know that could change.  I know my heart could be won by someone.  I know that I could once again find myself taking long walks, listening to music that makes the world seem vivacious, and thinking about how much I love you him.

Someday, perhaps.
Or perhaps not.

For now, I will try to let you go.
Because you were never mine.
And I know you never will be.

But...thank you.
For making me aware that there is potential for change in the future.  That intelligent, spellbinding men exist in the world.  For, I suppose, helping me learn (to a certain degree) what it looks like to care deeply for someone.  What it feels like to want a future with someone.

You have my deepest sincerity in wishing you every bit of happiness.
Truly.

Clouds and clouds and more clouds.
That's the price I pay for living in a place I love.  The mountains and the redwoods and the ocean are worth it, but sometimes the lack of sunshine for weeks on end gets to me.  And I forget even more what it means to be happy.

I can't sit and do nothing, because it makes me feel unproductive and lazy and like I did nothing on my days off from work.  But then if I do too much, I feel as though my weekend was not nearly long enough and regret having to go back to work.  And either way I feel just as exhausted, just as tired, just as weary.

How did I get to this place?

You know when something that's wrong or not-normal has been going on for so long, that it feels like the new normal, and you forget what the real normal feels like?  That's what this is.  I can't remember the last time I felt energised or completely rested and actually not. tired.  Or even when I cared about things...when I cared about life.  (Okay, that last one isn't so far away that I can't remember it.  I do.  And it hurts, so I try not to think about it.)

I applaud the people who go through their lives with health problems and push forward.  Who don't give up.  Who stay positive.  Because I am not one of them.  I feel as though I've been smashed to thousands of pieces and I cannot keep it together.  I laugh louder, make jokes left and right, and smile a lot.

(It's funny how we sometimes act completely opposite of how we feel.)

I don't feel funny, I don't feel like laughing, I don't feel like living.  I want to give up, and more often than not these days, I have to talk myself out of thinking too much about ways to die.  What a laugh.

How do people not give up?  How do they decide what to do when there is no direction?  I can't keep going back to the same doctor(s), because they have been no help in the past.  But I don't know what else to do.  Keep going back until I make them see that this is a legitimate issue and we need to figure it out?  I thought people got into the medical field because they wanted to help people.  And I understand that the human body is super complex and one person can't possibly know every little thing about it, but good God, you think they would have an idea of what to do for concerning issues.

I just want to die.

Isolation.  Giving up on people, on friendships, on everything.  On faith.

How do you tell the people in your life that while you know God is real, you've given up on trying anymore?  How would they react?  They certainly couldn't help, that's for certain.  And heaven forbid you tell your family members, because you know what some of their mindsets are, and they certainly wouldn't understand.

Please believe me when I say I don't want to give up, but trying to fight, to believe seems too great of a task.  This isn't a book, this isn't a game or a movie, and the answer isn't going to magically appear after a long time of struggling with no hope.

No hope.

I have to stay busy, stay distracted, in order to keep from thinking too much.  From being too sad, too disheartened, and wanting to end all of this.  Because that is on the forefront of my mind on a daily basis.

Perhaps I should look into getting pills to help with the sadness.  But I don't want to.  For reasons, of course, that I can't explain, because I myself do not know.

I don't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

What is even the point of this post?

Well, when you figure it out, let me know.

Because I'm just as much in the dark as you are.