A while back I was thinking, searching for something to
equate my life to. I came up with the image of a stray. Cat, dog, it doesn’t
matter. Imagine a stray with a collar but no tag. A stray that was once owned
but has since been abandoned, left without a home and without a name. You pass
by it as you’re walking home, and you stop to pet it. If you’ve got some food
on you, you may even feed it a bit. You can’t help but like it, but eventually
you have to leave. You walk past the same area for the next couple days, seeing
the stray every time. You spend some time with it, feed it a bit if you’ve got
something on you, then continue on your way. Sometimes when you’re feeling a
bit down, you pass by to spend some time with the stray, enjoying the
unconditional companionship and closeness. Then, once things get better again,
you only stop to see it when you remember it. Either way, it’s always happy to
see you, and you enjoy its company. And even though its eyes beg you not to
leave, you’ve either had enough and start off on your way, or something more
important comes up and you have to go. Eventually, you hit a point in your life
where things are going well and even though you think of it every now and then,
you can’t be bothered to take the time to go check on it. After a while, things
hit a lull and you decide to drop by to check on the stray. When you get to
where you usually, see it, it’s nowhere to be found. Whether it found a home,
moved on to someplace else, or maybe it died, you wonder about it for a moment,
then quickly forget about it.
That’s essentially what my life boils down to. I make some
friends here and there, and we have some good times. But ultimately, I’m left
behind for people they’d rather be around, or things develop in their lives and
they don’t need me anymore. So, I’m
left, broken hearted at first, but over time getting used to the feeling. And
ultimately, all I can do is survive as best I can. When you’re alone for such a
long time, you learn to deal with it. I can’t say that all my methods of coping
have been healthy, but I get by. Occasionally, you find someone that you think –
that you hope – will be different. Ultimately though, you see it coming a mile
away, and you find yourself on your own again. Basically, people want me around
when they need me, but no one wants to keep me. I want – no, I need – someone to
give enough of a damn to want to keep me.
A while back I decided that I wouldn’t care anymore what
people thought of me. If they just want to use me, fine. If I’m just there to
keep them entertained until something better comes along, fine. At this point,
it doesn’t matter anymore. As much as it saddens me, loneliness has become
ingrained as a part of my life. Funny thing about loneliness is, the longer it
goes on, the more it eats away at everything good, everything soft, everything
warm in you until all that’s left is a shell full of negativity with a gaping
hole in it. I’m doing everything I can to keep that from happening, but things
still trickle away. It’s gotten to the point where I have to think hard before
asking people for help for fear of bringing them down with me. I won’t let
other people risk the good things in their lives just so I can fill a gap in my
own soul.
A long time ago, people made wagers on how long I would
live. Some said 18, others said 24, others said 26, and a few said 30. I’ve got
2 years, 2 months, and 83 days until I beat the last wager. Sometimes I wonder
who I’ll be at that point, or how much of me is left. I wonder who I’ll meet,
who I’ll know, and who I’ll lose. In the end though, as much as I’ve tried to
keep on hoping that there are better things to come, I just can’t see them
anymore.
“The opposite of
love is not hate, it is apathy. Apathy is when you would do nothing for
someone. Love is when you would do anything.”
- Anonymous
