Destruction

For those who have crossed my path and to whom I have promised things yet not delivered upon those promises, I am truly sorry, you know who you are...

One of my traits I am guilty of, and painfully aware of my own culpability (yet do not know how to undo) is a desire to please people, friends or simply those who cross my path, and make rash, foolish promises that I cannot always live up to.  I keep telling myself to stop making such promises as, ultimately, I fear that I will just let people down and in the ultimately, they will end up abandoning me.  I have no wish for this to happen, as I have been told that I am a good person; that I am likable, personable and that I am enjoyable company.  Yet, despite such favorable attributes, at this point in my life, not many true enriching and loyal friends are to be found in my life for me to share such qualities with.  And I do not know how to change the dynamic of this status quo. Where does one meet such people to enjoy such an existence with?

Amongst the attributes I used to believe I had was and is an ability "to communicate at all levels".  I feel no longer in possession of this quality for the simple reason being that I have lost patience, confidence, and faith in myself, rather than in people. It is too easy to blame others for one's failings, where ultimately the blame rests upon your own shoulders.  This has been down to my missing opportunities, and making rash and foolish errors of judgment.  Such traits would appear to be a permanent stain on my being, my soul.  It feels rather like I am sleepwalking through life, damaged, stained, much like Lady Macbeth "What, will these hands ne'er be clean. . . All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand".  Despite my best efforts to start afresh, again and again - at this point in my life it appears that the sins of the fathers are finally catching up with me.

Does not Dionysius make it sufficiently clear that there can be nothing happy for the person over whom some fear always looms? (Cicero)

If this is true, I'm screwed...

I have made many a faux-pas in trusting and counting on the people whose paths I have crossed, in some instances the friendships I have made, and the paths I chose to follow.  Recent events have included my trusting someone who ultimately stole from me, and this damaged my self worth beyond words.  Other unfortunate mistakes have been my inability to not express feelings, good and bad, when perhaps I should have done and instead played the diplomatic card.   This article you are reading, dear readers, is not written to wallow in self pity but as an apologia to those I have disappointed and let down, whether on a small scale or one of a more grand scale. I never mean to break my word, my promises, but I feel I will invariably disappoint.  This will result in my losing you as a friend for I shall never live up to what I perceive to be your lofty expectations of me.

For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be in careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit.
The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? (Jeremiah 17: 8-9)

However, I do not want to continue to walk life's path like some sort of Via Dolorosa, feeling a profound sense of regret at every turn.  My wish is to feel strong enough to express my yearnings, my true feelings and my desires.  Yet, owing to this inner turmoil, I feel regret, I feel remorse, I feel lonely.  I find myself meandering along this path with a sense of inner disillusionment with an unkempt mop of hair to hide behind, wandering with worn down shoes, an empty belly, a fractured heart and a soul that yearns to cry out how it feels.  I feel the need to exorcise the demons and purge the disappointment that lingers in my heart.  I am too scared to express my thoughts vocally, in an obvious manner, for fear that there will be no response to my plea.  And if I do express them, that no one will open their eyes to see, their ears to listen; and by extension open their arms to embrace, support and encourage, me.  Those true friends out there will not run from reading these words, my cry in the dark, but listen and understand.  You are needed... so much!

So, despite such inner conflict, from me, there will be no talking of love for fear of rebuttal, no expressing and sharing knowledge for fear of being mocked, despite this intrinsic need to overcome this sense of loneliness and to be loved once again...

To conclude, in the words of Swinburne:-

But half a man's days--and his days were nights,
What hearts were ours who loved him, should we pray
That night would yield him back to darkling day,
Sweet death that soothes, to life that spoils and smites?
For now, perchance, life lovelier than the light's
That shed no comfort on his weary way
Shows him what none may dream to see or say
Ere yet the soul may scale those topless heights
Where death lies dead, and triumph. Haply there
Already may his kindling eyesight find
Faces of friends--no face than his more fair--
And first among them found of all his kind
Milton, with crowns from Eden on his hair,
And eyes that meet a brother's now not blind.