I feel empty right now, and it’s just depressing. But I do have insights as to why. The real reason for my emptiness is…
Well, you know that
And, just hours ago, I’ve let that person go.
Obviously, I’m left alone.
When I Realized I Was Empty
Suddenly, I felt the urge to connect. Suddenly, I imagined myself surrounded
But I can’t seem to continue.
Besides being an introvert, I’ve hopped from one person to another—one intimate relationship to another.
And I already feel exhausted. There’s nothing more to give.
My friendship history
My best friend—the one I’ve been telling you, my dear readers, about—was the third I have had in my innermost circle. Let’s call her Thea for the sake of naming.
The first one was Fanny; the second, Sue.
To repeat, Fanny was first. Sue was second. Thea is third and I’ve vowed she’d be the last and best. (I think you get the logic behind the naming scheme I just made up.)
So, to remove any possible but unnecessary confusion in both my past and future posts, let me clarify that Thea is and will always be my human best friend. She will remain.
So, Thea was and will be the only one I’m referring to as my best friend—here and for all time.
That statement naturally elicits the following question.
Have I ditched the first two before? Well, yes. Now…
Here’s why it’s hard to connect anew
The answer is simple.
All my failed friendships have torn me. Even the one I’ve vowed would be the best and last thing to happen to me is now falling apart.
Needless to say, that’s totally depressing.
And even if somebody happens to suggest that I mingle with others—walking human beings at that, i.e., person to person, face to
I’m too reserved to do that. I’m not really shy. I used to be shy, but I’ve had enough exposure to know how to give a handshake, at least—to a stranger, for instance.
So, I’ve decided I’m staying the way I am. Quiet. Deep. Smiling(?). Gentle-looking. All these while inside of me, I’m bleeding.
All because I don’t feel loved
…by the one person who remains (present tense) in my innermost circle.
Yes, I’ve given her the freedom. (I just decided to and I just told you in this previous post.) That doesn’t mean though she’s physically gone.
Thea is living with me. We’re living together in a rented unit, and she’s paying for it.
Yes, I know what you’re thinking. I told you we were intimately interconnected. And I want none else to break through that “sacred” (i.e., “set apart,”
But now, I think I just let off some emotional connection. That’s what my “letting go” meant. I don’t know, but I feel it was the right thing to do—nevermind the fact that I’m pained by it.
I feel blank.
A Sudden Inspiration
I actually paused my writing to fill my physical hunger. I went over to Thea to check if there were still corn flakes left in her bowl. It was almost empty when I saw it. Only a few crumbs were there.
I reached to the fridge and got the pack.
“Can I have some?”
She opened it while still staring at the screen, having the time of her life with the motion picture that seemed to fill her apparent emptiness, though only for a while.
She smiled as I smiled at her, watching her watch freely.
I felt relieved.
And then I realized something. The thought grew more vividly as I saw her try to stretch her neck. You could tell she’s been watching for too long.
I felt a sense of wanting to make her feel better. So I massaged her neck and shoulders and rubbed them with a soothing balm. I did it with only a smile and not a word.
Then it clearly came to me.
There’s power in a love that doesn’t have to receive. There’s power in a love that shines the sun and pours the rain on both the evil and the sane.
And I felt I need that love. I just needed to be so filled with that kind of love—from outside of myself and outside of her. Only in that way will I be able to give to her without asking anything back.
I would be so overwhelmed with such a rare kind of love that I will no longer feel empty.
That my broken friendships would end.
And that my downcast life would never be the same again.