Losing focus...

The lens on which I am viewing my world are blurred, out of focus.
Everything just seems so hopeless.
Someone please tell me what is the point, of living when we all die in the end.
What is the point of chasing the wind if we never catch it?
What is the purpose of everything that is going if I can't decipher the lessons?
I have compartmentalized every thought, every feeling,
but the walls I have built cannot hold the pressure of the impending breakdown,
the dam I constructed cannot hold the force of the salty water threatening to cut lose,
the facade I have put up will not be able to hold in place should you just;
honestly care about how I am feeling....and quietly feel my pain with me...so you can ease it.
Don't you know that this smile is what is holding the tears in check?
My lens are blurred. loosing focus. and where I am heading there is no turning back. 

Which hurts more?

Which hurts more?

When you try your best but you don't succeed or when you get what you want not what you need?
When you feel so tired but you cannot sleep or when you try to stay up but you falling asleep?
Thinking that you should hate him or knowing that you don't?
or realising that he was everything to you and you meant nothing to him?

Which hurts more?

Being disappointed by the single person that you never thought would hurt you
or finally realising that on the list of everyone that you take care of you are not there yourself?
Losing what you had or knowing that the other person is not fighting to keep it?
The moment when everything is falling apart or pretending to smile through it all?

I can't figure out which hurts more, you leaving me or the thought that I wasn't good enough for you.
What hurt more was being close to you then watching you walk away.
What hurt more was that you ripped my heart into little pieces and you didn't even notice.
I still wouldn't let anything hurt you because you are my world,
and whatever hurts you, hurts me more. 

Wonder why i have trouble writing...???

lately its because of this: 

Death is a Way of Life.

It has been a while since the last time I posted something. So much has been happening simultaneously that I have had no time in the moments to write. I doubt that I have even fully felt the full weight of what has been going on. I feel like I am watching my life pass by, not full in it, yet not quite out of it. Numb.

A wedding. A death of a grandfather. A death of a grandmother. A possibility of a new life. A break up of friendship. A rift in the family. A gathering of in-laws.  All in the same few weeks.

A Lost Writer...couldn't find the places in my heart for all the emotions. For all the anger. For all the sadness. For all the hurt. For all the joy. For all the love. For all the mix-up.

So I tell myself that death is a way of life. Death is a reminder to live every day, every hour, every minute, every second. Death reminds us all is not lost. When something gets taken away - something else is put in our hands. Death is a reminder to be grateful. Death is a reminder that life is short, but its beautiful if lived to the fullest.

Death is a way of life. 

What Happened to All the Nice Guys?

I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I thought I'd take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there who haven't figured it out.

What happened to all the nice guys?

The answer is simple: you did.

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He'd tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn't feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given his behaviour was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were "just friends". Besides he totally wasn't your type. I mean he was a little too short, or too bold, or too fat, or too poor, or didn't know how to dress himself, or basically be  or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you weren't dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realised that the things that attracted you to him weren't the kinds of things that make for a good long-term relationship. So, now, you are single again and after having tried the bar scene for several months, having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, "What happened to all the nice guys?"

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating in kind with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive "just-a-" friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realise, one day that women aren't really attracted to guys who hold doors open for them; or make dinners just because; or buy you that Christmas gift that you really wanted and mentioned it in passing five months ago; or listen when you're upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realise that, if he wanted a woman like you, he'd have to act more like the boyfriend you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.

Fact is, now, he's probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of his is to thank for that. And I'm sorry that it took the complete absence of "nice guys" in your life for you to realise that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.

So, if you're looking for a nice guy, here's what you do:

1) Build a time machine.
2) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3) Take a look at what's right in front of you and grab hold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don't really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.

If you were five years younger.

So please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you've fucked yourself over. You're getting older after all. It's time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn't want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn't fucking want you, now.

Sincerely,

A Recovering Nice Guy.


***Read this fine print: this piece is not my writing and it touched a nerve. I thought it ideal to re-post it. 

Silence

"Sometimes my silence is my loudest cry."