It seems I find myself back here every couple of months. Always when I feel like things are losing focus, or when I feel I am losing my mind. I wish I could lose it sometimes. It would be so much easier not to have to think about anything; to just exist in the physical sense and not really have to worry or plan or decide.

Tonight is not really any different than any other night. It's a holiday, and like all my holidays this year, as well as my birthday, I'm feeling rather miserable. This is where I throw myself a pity party. Woe is me and all that. And I do feel that way right now. The one man I love most in the world has spent the day talking to me like I'm some stranger he hasn't seen in years, and then he says I'm the reason we didn't talk all day. Never mind the unanswered messages I sent.

I wonder sometimes if I just left everyone if I'd be happier. I know there is that saying that no man is an island. But I wonder if I could live a reasonably happy live doing the job i love, and the things I love, without all the distractiong and pressure of relationships and people and feelings. Most people would say no I'm sure. But where do you draw the line?

I like it here. It feels like being home in a very strange sense. No one to judge, and usually no one to actually read what you write. Which is okay when the writing is more theraputic than inquisitive. Not that all my writing is strictly theraputic lol. It just feels like here I can safely be who I want and say what I feel or think without someone telling me that I have no right to feel that way. Because no one here knows me. I am anonymous. And I know no one here. Therefore no one here holds the power to tell me what I am or am not entitled to feel, or think, or do. Its rather freeing. Knowing that I can say every random and dark thing I think without someone trying to fix me. Encourage: sure. Support: of course. Befriend: absolutely. But not trying to fix.

There has only ever been two places I can truly be me. With the man I mentioned earlier, and here. I had a journal once upon a time. But I got rid of it. Or rather I handed it over. I have one now. But every memory in it hurts me and cuts me and I try not to dwell on it unless I feel the need to emotionally punish myself. And sometimes I do feel that need. But here, here there is no punishment. And with him I can be the most true version of me that exists. The one no one else sees because we all have to keep up appearances. Although, I feel that I"m losing that with him. Like its spiraling out of my hands and I'm having to be a less true version of me, a slightly covered up version of me, to accomodate him.

There really is very little point or common thread to this post I guess. I just realized now that I am jumping through topics, to the point where I cannot even remember why I first began. Maybe not remembering is exactly what I intended. So I guess the question is can a person be an island?

Discuss :)