The thought of the number of hearts I am able to identify has become a bit overwhelming, in the sense of acknowledging each of there purposes. It wasn't until recently I was able to acknowledge the loneliest heart of them all.
I recall having conversations with my Dad about being bored, while he expressed feelings of loneliness; neither of us understood the other's concept yet as I sit here today, I realize we were expressing the same sentiments.
The heart of reference has become an abyss at this point- long neglected and somehow abandoned. It's the heart of boredom met with the expression of loneliness my Father described many Moons ago.
For a long time I thought filling it with superficial things, words, gestures and such would somehow make me feel something. Only to find it emptier than ever before.
As the Summer has come to an end, so has the ideas of a certain someone I enjoyed a few encounters with... Since accepting the conclusion of what was I am finding myself in a space of uncertainty; mixed with a hint of disinterest in the idea of belongingness and connection in the realm of others. For too long I have yearned to feel a part of society to no avail. Now, I have [for the most part] come to terms with my uniqueness.
The concept of identifying as simply a sad girl does not completely satisfy the magnitude of loneliness this experience has dealt.
In all honesty, I have been melancholily most of my life, I feel connected to that mood more often than any other. Perhaps due to much grief during developmental ages when most are enjoying their youth; immune to the happenings around them.
On days such as today I believe I want to isolate for a while to delve into my innermost being to discover the woman I am becoming; while in another thought I want to connect with a chosen few to recognize how the effects of such will come about.
Maybe it's the illusion of togetherness that I am fascinated by, although I feel most connected with those who have transitioned to another realm of consciousness. In daily life, I am filled and surrounded by silence. Where the desire to return to the sea conflicts with the desire to live a long life of purpose.
I suppose I must see this life through as I feel it is my first time doing so. I feel at times I have experienced many of the aspects of being human that leave us longing for something different, more meaningful; what I am finding recently has been the lack of substance and a yearning for it that transcends my understanding.
At this point I see no other way than to embrace my lonely heart to find the blockage from what I seem to crave more than anything; realizing the repair of such may not come from another, but from discovering what it is that my being has been deprived of for so long.
Is there a remedy for emptiness?
If the reality is an abyss, how would it ever be filled?
Is the answer in the connection to another or the realization of some form of myself I have yet to discover?
