Hope

Hibernation comes with the cold weather. For me it just comes. I lose months of time to worry and regret. Held up in my bedroom, not answering the phone for anyone. I stare at it while it rings. Hoping the person on the other end will know that I just can’t talk. Then I feel guilty for not answering and the wheels of the fucked up processes of this life start turning.  I have single handily created a very frightful place in my mind. The only pride I dare take in it is that it’s mine and mine alone. I fear I’ve never been good at sharing.

Not much has changed for the better or worse since my last post. Life has carried on despite my father’s illness. He and I still have interesting conversations now and again, but mostly I stay away. I am going to be 29 years old this January after all! Living like a teenager who hates the worlds and wishes that the only color clothes came in were black. It’s selfish really, this place I am in. It’s filled with voices that only know how to speak sentences of complaint. Mine, yours, the worlds. Proving to me once again that the sun will never come out at midnight.

I fear that I am stuck in between self loathing and regret. Nothing any one phone call can do about that. Lives go on even faster when you stop to feel sorry for yourself. People try to help, and I listen, but really I find my freedom in the art of not trying anymore. Past all this gloom and doom lies a happy me. One that still holds on to dreams and refuses to be called anything other than a hopeless romantic. It’s just that I’m tired of being told what I should do. Tired of “med checks” and hugs for no reason. It’s safest here. In this place with no color or charm. Just a little bit longer and then I will re-enter the race. For right now slow and steady is the only pace I wish to move in. There is hope, but hope is nothing when it takes all you have to simply dream.

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