Pain, Season II Episode III

Typing is soothing. I need to get one thing offa my chest before my 'spirit fingers' (!?!?!?!) go to work. REAL work.

All this time an excruciating atmosphere of worry has been plaguing my mind. I've tried countless moral and immoral means to shake it off, however it still looms in my thoughts, waiting to strike when I am most vulnerable. The thought of inevitability through the significant lack of options supplements the impact of this anxiety.

No replies through regular attempts to contact. No answers on the telephone. Countless searches on many mediums have yielded dead ends. Silent rejection in unconventional means to have what could just be a final conversation. I'm realizing that I have probably reached strike three or even four in attempts to make contact. However I try, I end up fruitless.

It is during these times that the advice of strangers truly helps. One reminded me that there must be a reason behind this sudden vanishing. One who's actually been there reinforces this opinion, and tells me that eventually circumstance will allow communication. To the latter, I asked if I would show that I care less if I walked away. She told me to hope, but not expect. Perhaps that's all the care you'll have to show for now.

************************************cheese alert!**************************************

Does God read blogs? I'd like to confess to Him and the world (in the hope that she is part of it) that I wanted more than this person could give me. I was too greedy, too selfish to give in return, and I wanted more than this person could give me. I had the audacity to insult her in front of her face in countless indirect ways, one too many times, and I still wanted more than this person could give me. I am sorry for what I have done, and I commit to avoiding such trouble again. Lord knows the pain I feel.

I wish she would talk to me. I wish I could tell her how sorry I feel, straight up. It's a brand new hole in my body that I feel, and as of the moment, only she can fill it up. I've had a hard time sleeping during some nights because of this anxiety, this helplessness.

I wish she would talk to me. I wish she would tell me if she was all right, and if she was in trouble, I still wish she'd think of me when looking for help, regardless of what the problem is.

I wish she would talk to me. My pride is gone. I wish she'd realize that. I say it again. I wanted more, and now I am left with nothing. I'm sorry. I wish she'd talk to me.

I did my best. I doubt my best was good enough. If I do any better, I'd suck. I'd suck in the sense that I would overdo it. Analysis of the balance is quite frustrating as the actual scenario.

So there. I said what I needed to say. Enough of the cheese. The worry will be gone. The hope will remain. The faith will be felt. And the results will be nothing less than magnificent, overwhelming.

To God be the glory. Thank you for reading.