I have not been longing now, significantly, since around the start of this month, November.
Each morning and daytime, for as long as I can remember, at the age of true adulthood, I have been, inside, what it feels like to be a wreck of longing and loneliness. Nothing was able to stop it. Each throne that I had been offered, and on which, I was told had power, was powerful, or the, “most” powerful, I did something else than what people may be told: rather than rejecting the throne, or passing off of it soon enough to the next person, I would write above it my one true wish, that I would physically meet, and get a girlfriend, with hopes of marrying her. Maybe not in as much detail, maybe sometimes more, but I would write it in plain bold black against white, or neon, or graffiti. Whatever metaphorical tools I had with me at that stage. Then what I did, was to stay on the throne, and, stay on the throne, until I got shoved off and dethroned for no reason.
This is something different altogether. It can’t just be that I have found new medications, can it? I feel whole. It’s better than bliss, gentler than euphoria, and yet, if this is a spiritual state, it differs in its solid nature, rather than flowing, or slicing and swimming through me with joy.
There is no reliable medication or quick fix available for what I deem my loneliness, but this gift of wholeness I accept, humbly, and without quarrel. I wont be writing my need in biro or marker on this seat. I will instead just sit, with my past, that I wisely locked in my heart, now giving me a back-rub and occasional mini hologram of what life has been for me. I accept this state, in and of itself. Long may it last.
The Humble Rock Dove 