The Gathering.

I’ve been on the verge, all day. The verge of what is yet to be determined. Maybe tears. Maybe giving up. Maybe writing the best shit that my life has ever afforded me the opportunity to pen. But it’s something…something is there, lurking in the shadows, preying on my words, looking on as I talk with her. Today has been completely full of ups and downs since I awoke, honestly. I’m a save(h)er; I don’t know how to be saved. And even as I try to learn to allow someone close enough to do just that, I see others in distress & forget all about being the one in peril…to attempt to help someone else in danger.

I don’t even know what I’m saying, here…or what the purpose is. I just miss a lot of shit, to be quite frank. I miss my father. He’s never coming back. I miss who I used to be, at one point in time. He’s never coming back, either. I miss her, her and her. Is that weird? I’m never going back. My family probably misses me, even though I’m around…because I’m just that: around, but not there. Visible, but just outside of any real reach. People die. Every day. And there’s not always a funeral for it. People don’t get to cry over them, or gather to tell precious memories of their past. It’s rude to speak on the living in such a way. So they mourn amongst themselves…if they know that the person in question is even ‘gone’ to begin with. As for those ceremony-less souls that ‘died’? They just endure a long wake…the rest of their lives, on their own two feet. Sometimes, this feels like mine. But I can’t recall when it was that I stopped living.