Seeking. Searching. I long for the high found in someone seeing me. Someone seeking me out & getting to know me. The rush of a new conversation, a fascination of newness. The beat of my heart growing stronger as connection is made to another human being. I miss feeling as if I am being pursued, perused and plundered. I remember the hurt too. The wondering why not me? The pain of disappointment when replies and responses were vague or non existent. I reach out to others and get light or no response. I feel like I don’t matter to those who ultimately do not matter (in comparison to the ones right next to me). I am in the room with my children, in awe of their play and yet I feel outside of it. Like I am standing just outside the circle, not close enough to feel the positive feelings of warmth, love & togetherness. I just feel the cold empty lonely. I want my family to feel like a warm comfortable sweater, protecting me and providing warmth and comfort. Instead of just feel the itchy wool, the lumpy heaviness of it.

I feel apart from. Falling apart from it. Unraveling while trying in vain to pick up the unspooling thread. A massive pile of knotted string.

So here I sit with a bit of time & quiet. I don’t know what I like anymore. What I deeply desire. What I want to do. I have tried many things, quit many things & keep on going but I am beginning to feel the cost of such a life. Pieces of me have been thrown around and now I don’t know what is left. Anything?

Who am I?

What do I want?

What am I willing to do to get it?