Back to Black

Sometimes I feel like giving up.  

Sometimes I feel like it’s all too much.

Sometimes I feel more alone than I’ve ever felt before.

Everything has changed.  But nothing has  resolved the way I wanted it to…the way I believed it should.  It’s all just outside my grasp, and just beyond my field of vision.  

Nothing is fair…even what’s “fair” isn’t fair.  I’m angry.  With today, with yesterday, with the last eight and a half months…with life itself.  I wasn’t supposed to be here.  In this predicament.  Starting over in my mid-30’s.  Sans happy.  Sans partner.  Sans stability.  

I’ve always been so strong.  So resilient.  I’ve had to be.  No choice in the matter.  I am who I was made to be…molded by mistakes, choices, pathways, people.  Every day makes a new me.  Every experience initiates a chrysalis, changing me into something different…stronger…and more foreign.  

I feel like I’m losing myself, little by little…sometimes laughing is hard and smiling even more so.  I’m overwhelmed, and with no one to help shoulder my burden, I’m afraid of losing what’s left of my normalcy.  I try so hard to exist in this new reality, but I’m afraid of everything taking its toll and being irrevocably changed.  

I have no doubt as to my survival…that is guaranteed.  But what of my soul?  Does it remain unscathed?  What of trust?  Of love?  Of life?  

What of me?


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