Choking

I feel like every day I retreat deeper and deeper into myself. On those rare occasions when I let others see glimpses into my heart I feel so liberated and happy, because someone wants to understand my pain--they see it and yet they still want to help me through it and love me despite it. And then "reality" sinks in and I find myself regretting all those moments that I've shared and all the tears I've cried in someone else's arms, because they forget about me, or they say, well, your pain is in the past now, I don't have to lend my shoulder anymore. How cruel a trick it is to be there for someone and then suddenly disappear. It makes my heart ache and shrink in shame and bitterness, and for what? For being open and honest and revealing the hurt that scars my heart? For giving the tiny bits of love that I still have left? Really, it should be they who are ashamed of themselves, but more often than not they tell their buddies about how far they got with you, or how much they made you trust them, or how much they know you'll be craving their love and friendship and listening ears... While in the meantime it was all a farce, and so often than not I both feel and look like a fool. A fool who keeps trusting fools. A fool who wants to love, but there is no one to love. A fool who wants to spill my heart and my tears, and yet there is no shoulder that actually cares. And I wonder, how many prayers are offered for me? Specifically me? By hearts who really care and hearts who know my story and know my pain and have seen my many bitter tears. How can I justify giving my heart and love to someone who doesn't care to know about who I really am? Tell me, how can I? How does the rest of the world do it--do they just sleep around enjoying the moment and then when their hurt and bitterness shows through they drink it away? Tell me, is that true? Oh my dear God, I can't do it. I can't live that way. I'd rather give my love to nothing except birds and baby trees than have it wasted on some fool who only wants what he can get. And yet this pain that envelopes and chokes my heart tonight is so intensely real that either I wish to die or I wish to give in again and let those worthless arms hold me and just pretend that they actually care. But the pain just grows deeper and my emptiness aches and aches and aches until all I do at night is tremble in my bed and drown myself in saddened music. My soul is so thirsty tonight, so thirsty for the water of life that too often I foolishly forsake by trusting in my own heart, which I know is deceitful and desperately wicked. It's my own fault, I know, and I can't blame it on anyone but myself, but this sadness is choking my life, and one of these nights I'll no longer be able to breathe.