None of this came from thin air. It brewed from seeing him again. The one guy who I feel most like myself with, and most flawful with. It's a horrifyingly realistic place. He illuminates my flaws, but also makes me feel like I'm appreciated for things no one else will ever understand.
Emotional unavailability left us in this divided cell; a world of our own laced with graceful text messages and moon sharing, though we both know we can't thrive off either. We just live out our days without eachother but share some jarring connection that reminds me every day how I'll never be complete without his voice in the back of mind bouncing my echo.
I feel like I have no sense of self in days like these, like I have no idea who I am, what I want, or what I am doing. Do I write poetry, or hoetry that embodies what everyone else has already said. Do I write to execute or for publicity? I'm about to graduate college and don't even know if I like my major. I went to three different schools, all of which I liked and hated. I feel like I could be dropped anywhere and fit in; an aspect about myself I used to think was cool, now I fear it means I have zero sense of self and can conform to anything. I don't know what I believe in, I don't know if I ever loved.
If I am floating in this universe for a purpose, I've yet to find it. I know this is the brutal art of life, and I'm still young, but I doubt that my fulfillment of any goal will come out of being stuck in my mothers house and writing on livejournal.