Stand up straight at the foot of your love

I haven’t had the words, lately. I’ve been trying, but I can’t put my life into order, or make any sort of sense out of it, lately.

Sometimes there’s just nothing to say.

In the past few days I’ve been able to feel the emptiness creeping back up, and there’s nothing nothing nothing I can do to stop it. It’s giving me fair warning, forecasting its eventual presence, like the sound of an oncoming train. But it won’t hit me with that sort of force, it will drift in like a fog, settle into my skin, take up residence inside me.

I don’t know what it is about me that makes living hurt. Fleeting beautiful moments crush me, because I can’t capture them and soon they’re gone, never to return. I know I’m lucky to have them at all, I wish they didn’t make me ache. The year is ending, things are winding down, but that’s not all. I don’t know why my entire life is tainted with longing, with melancholy, with aching for something indefinable, that I grasp briefly and is then gone, leaving me devastated. I don’t know how to deal with this part of being human.

Everything is fading. Is this how I’ll always be? Will I continue to burn bright for mere moments, and then fade to this, whatever it is, over and over again?

I don’t know. I don’t have the words. 

It’s when things fall apart that I miss you.

Spring makes me feel like a little kid again, but with a new achey sense of loss. Fuck, can’t I just double major in nostalgia and cuddling?

For so much of the past year, I have been unfeeling, my senses and mind muffled and blunted by disease, by depression, by things I still don’t fully understand, by things that crawl through me without my knowledge.

But I have come alive in the past few weeks. I had forgotten myself, I had forgotten how much I feel. I have been feeling everything, good and bad, my heart swollen, easily bruised, but also easily and beautifully touched. My mind is clearer, my thoughts coalesce, I can speak with more ease.

None of this is to say that everything is easy, now. I still struggle, too often, too much. I still have days where I feel like nothing, where getting out of bed is a struggle, and I can’t feel anything but nothing. But I have found my life again, I have found my hope again, my possibility. And I don’t know if this will mean anything or make sense to anyone but me, but I am back. I am happy. I feel alive, for the first time in a long time. It feels like forever, but everything feels like forever when you’re blank, dull, lifeless.

This resurgence of myself, my life and energy, has coincided with the spring, with warmth and breezes and flowers outside my window, and I have given myself whole-heartedly to the warm weather. I love winter, cold and harsh, a time to settle in and hibernate, but I am shaking that off, shaking off my stagnation, banishing ideas of flatness from my mind.

I am not expressing this well at all. I wish I had better words, but what I feel, and what I want to express, is too much for any words that I’m able to put together. But still, I’ve been writing, so much, every day, for me and me alone.

All of a sudden, I am becoming. Becoming what, I don’t know, but I am becoming, when I wasn’t before. I am alive, again.

This has happened before, but followed by a resurgence of illness, and the dullness and stagnation of my depressed mind. I’m hoping that this time, the clarity will last.