Waiting

I have found, that writing provides solace.

I often wondered, when I read back my memories, oftentimes so dark and haunting, why I never capture the light in my words. I told myself, perhaps, if you could only write about the moments that made you smile, if you could capture a moment of pure bliss, if you could litter your blogs and diaries and social media outlets with love, joy and happiness, perhaps your mind would not be so dark. Perhaps, the default setting would be light.

But I cannot.

When there is happiness, it is fleeting. Far too fleeting to waste time attempting to capture it. It's a moment of pure contentment. A smile that settles as you close your eyes, or a laugh that escapes you unbidden. Try to pinpoint that happiness, and it evaporates. And so, happiness is quickly forgotten, and all that remains is a memory of sadness.

I struggle to remember happiness. I do not look back at my childhood with fond nostalgia, nor do I hold the past with rose tinted glasses. If anything, I look back and see a void, I look around me and all I see are moments biding their time waiting for life to actually begin.

My greatest fear after not finding happiness, is wasting time. I'm afraid of all the time I've wasted crying or in abject misery. I'm afraid I will look back, and struggle to distinguish this year from the past twenty. And every time I fall out of contact with a friend for a few years, and try to reconnect, and they ask me, "so how have you been? What's new with your life?" I'm filled with an immediate sense of dread. Nothing. There's nothing new in my life.

What have I accomplished in the past year? Nothing

In the past three years?

In the past twenty six years?

I cannot grasp anything.

I have accomplished nothing.

I have not saved the world as I once thought I will. I did not free Palestine as I once believed I will. I did not change anything, I have not impacted on humanity in a big way, I have not left a legacy.

I came, and I will go, and nothing will remain from my memory.

I feel so alone. No, I do not feel - I am.

I don't know where I went wrong in my life, I don't know why I know find myself so isolated, but all I can do is wait. Wait for either my soul to heal, or for another soul to encompass mine. I do not dare think that my wait is in vain...because then, I won't have anything worth waiting for.