I must start by explaining something. The only time I really find my solace anymore is while I’m driving. I clear my head out, I think– and listen to the sound of my gorgeous car gliding on the highway. I get a slight feeling of sadness whenever I turn onto my street because that means my solitude is over. Sure I’m practically alone in the house, but it’s just not the same. Anyway, I usually stall at night before stepping out of my car. Tonight I said out loud “God, please let me cry.” For the first time in about a month, tears actually rolled out of my eyes. Two. One from each eye. Within minutes, I’d say about two.. because I sat there for a minute happy about the fact that the real me is somewhere in this ghost of a person that was so full of emotions. I walked in my home, looked at the small mirror hanging in my hallway and they were gone. My tears were gone, and not a trace of them was left.

The fact that I could bring myself to actually cry in itself is something I am hopeful about.

Just some background information, I have only cried one other time within the past 5 months or so. I know that’s a good thing for most people, however for me that is just strange. Crying was a release, and now.. all my feelings are hoarded inside. I don’t do anything with them. I don’t get angry, depressed.. nothing. But they’re there, I can feel it. All I can feel is genuine heartache.

Every single time I see them.. or know I’m going to–all I can feel is heart broken. And I do not know why.

I lost something, and I want it back, but I don’t think that that is a viable option because I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t even know what I am looking for because I couldn’t even begin to explain what it is..

Fuck.

…

Many a time I will find myself spewing out advice to people who for some reason come to me to let out some things. Understandable. I’ll listen to anybody if they come to me, it’s flattering. I really do mean everyone.

My late summer fling, for lack of a better example, would continuously talk to me about his ex-girlfriend. His very recent ex-girlfriend. At that point in time we had initiated a relationship solely based on drunk hook-ups. No attachments there. But, I digress.. if I could make someone who at the time was sexually involved with me feel at ease to talk to me about, I’m sure I could stand just about anything. Granted, I did reach for the bottle nearly everytime he did in some form or fashion, but I grit my teeth and sucked it up.

Then are the few peers that decide to burden me with their problems. It’s not really a burden, just because I can walk away from a conversation about anything seemingly collected. It’s not that i don’t genuinely care, because I do. I can just burden the problems of others easily. My own problems are a different story. I’ll save that topic for another post though.

I do find myself in a dilemma when these instances occur, the whole “spilling my guts out to you” thing that people like to do. It is frustrating at times that it does not matter what I say, people will usually do whatever the hell they want to. It’s discouraging sometimes because I feel rather useless. I know the majority of what I say in regards to problematic situations is something they know; they are just thoughts that are deeply pushed into their subconscious where they hope it can be ignored easily. I am not one to talk though, I rarely take advice from people. Often I tell my super-ego to shut the hell up and see what happens, because it might be wrong this time. I never win that battle with myself, but I’d like to think that one day she’ll be wrong and I can restore my faith in humanity once agai.. wait it was never really there. Anyway. Times like right now I really do wish that people would listen, then again it could just be me being selfish. That instant gratification I get from knowing someone listened to my advice and it worked.. is an amazing feeling. Absolutely amazing. I would trade this feeling of uselessness for a few seconds of that wonderful feeling at this moment.