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Life is Unfair

For anyone who reads my blog posts on a regular basis, it must almost seem like I delight in the daily drama I often find myself entangled with.  Truly this is not my desire, and usually I run for the hills when drama begins to rear its ugly head.  There are some situations though in which that is something I find impossible for me.  Certain matters of the heart and soul seem to rule in favor of ration and wisdom.

It's no secret that August has historically been a difficult month for me emotionally.  I seem to wall myself off and hide from the world.  Some days it's a struggle just to get out of bed.  This year has, until the last couple of days, been an exception to that rule.  I've been happy and confident.  I've held on to hope and even found friends to help me through my struggle - and yet I find that I'm struggling once more.

I'm loved.  I know that.  There are many who love me and care about me.  Yet, I am once more alone in my struggle.  I know that nobody out there understands what I'm going through and what torture it is.  I want and need a shoulder to cry on, but that shoulder isn't here.  I want and need two arms around me, just to hold me without a word or sound aside from the rhythmic breathing of two souls in deep understanding.  Yet I sit alone on the bedroom floor, typing on my cold, slick, hard surface, emulating the exterior I wish to show the world.

Yet I'm vulnerable and weak, speedily racing from the top to the bottom of an emotional rollercoaster.  I know I'm not alone in that.  I know there are others who go through the same rollercoaster... but my only hope for any salvation is to know others do not face it alone and have the shoulder of someone who cares.  They can share that emotional pain and torture with someone. They can cry together, mourn together, feel together, share together.  I can not help but to feel guilt for the jealousy I harbor.  I cry my salty tears in a dark room alone.  I moisten the fur of my loving cat by holding him until he can't stand it any longer.  Finally he breaks free, tearing a scar into my soft belly, letting the blood flow as it will. 

For now it is as it must be.  Life must be unfair.  Life must be filled with pain in order for us to appreciate the pleasure.  I must be alone in order to appreciate others I suppose.  For now I hold my pillow tight, wishing it to be a comforting shoulder of someone who truly, fully understands.

I am a tough girl though... I've survived much worse, though for the life of me at this moment I can't think of any.  This too shall pass. That's what I keep telling myself. 


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