
Keep it simple, silly
The most beautiful woman in the world has not responded to my advances. Maybe she gets them all the time, maybe I have scared her with them, maybe I floored her with them, maybe she hasn’t even read them. But she hasn’t responded.
My ego has been holding on to an empty ideal, has interpreted something to suit its need for attachment, and its power has been so strong it has swept me asunder. In finding it so easy to ‘love, respect and admire’ another person, I have allowed my ego’s past dreams of emotional fulfilment to come flooding back and interpret this as being ‘in love’: a state that I know cannot last, and therefore one that is not even real. But I have played along with the ego’s story, being almost crushed in the process, because I want to believe in fairy tales. I have awoken now from a beautiful dream, only to find I was living a nightmare.
I really thought that writing her a letter would give me some closure. That I would now somehow be freed from thoughts of her. I believed that almost a week apart would dim my memory. I thought that by now I would have moved on. No such luck. My mind is preoccupied with her and I can’t seem to escape this sad fact. This is not healthy. It is holding on to an illusion. It is living on a perception of a sensation that was quite probably brought on by a perception. It is, for all intents and purposes, without foundation. But still it eats away at me, chewing me up from the inside, leaving my soul bare and unprotected.
The feelings I experience when she is on my mind, in my heart, are the feelings I want to experience for all humanity. And in a sense they are, for when I feel these things I feel them for all humanity. It is beautiful and there is no way I could think ill of the world at a time like this.
It’s not real flash, but I have a feeling I may be in love. A year ago this is exactly what I would’ve wanted, but I have other priorities now and this isn’t at all what I imagined I ought to be doing. But, all the same, there is a lass that I know and the more I see her the harder it is not to think about her; the more I get these strange, tickly feelings in my chest; and the stronger the pains in my stomach. This latter one sounds conflicting but feels related.