4:21 AM

I am having a crisis of faith. It’s 4:21 am and I am empty. The crisis exists not as a challenge to a higher power, but a challenge to my higher purpose. The melange of iidiosyncracy amnd idealism that circles my thoughts is driving me off the point of reason. 

I think the greatest hurt in this life, the greatest defeat, is loneliness. We can survive life’s darkest, breathing life onto embers of moments if we can do it as such, as a “we.” We traverse the globe in hopes of fame, acceptance, momentary bliss, all contingent on the acknowledgement of another. We cannot be as simply an I. And yet, I remain - an I. Across space and time, I am alone. I feel like I’ve always been distanced from other people. Either burning too brightly or not at all, I have been adrift inside myself for as long as I can remember. And I don’t know where to go from here. I have self-medicated to the best of my ability, dabbling with substances and stability and boys that won’t be men to try and avoid the point that I always return to. 

I am drowning in my own thoughts and the spectacle is absolute. Can’t see for hearing. Can’t hear for seeing. The music is always sweetest then, because of all of the goodness bereft that I leave in the notes.

I’ve found myself on the verge of giving up so many times in the last week - reaching for anything to quiet the empty.

 It’s the silence that burns the loudest - the insurmountable hum of all of the thoughts that wait until even the Bogeyman has gone home to show themselves. Time after time, I’m left with these. And so many surround and love me for who I can be for them, but I don’t know if that’s enough. I want both to run away and never leave - frozen in a moment where everyone is love and no one can hurt me. Is this what life is? Concentric circles of human beings, just secure enough to bump into each other as they spin into oblivion? I hate this ache. I’ve tried to fill it in every way possible, to no avail. 

I’m hurting. 

Please, someone, save me from myself.