Steel Rain, Glacial Wind, Immolating Comfort.

There is a strangeness that we seem to embrace each and every single time it comes around. Foremost however, I'm going to set the ambiance of these surroundings.

Techno music playing lightly across 5.1 surround speakers, you notice that it's basically worthless to have that many since only 2 of them are playing the actual music but push it to the side of the mind that really doesn't care. A mountain dew bottle with one drink taken out it sits to your right next to a computer black mouse and keyboard, wireless. Which in all truth you are thankful for. No need to be caged by wires now is there? It is 20 till midnight, you notice on your monitor that now sits in in front of your eyes. A silent, uncaring, and dementedly stupid companion. It flickers a bit here and there. Regardless of how it may seem, this uncanny loved piece of inanimate object seems more of a prison than it does a freedom anymore. The music that was playing seems to be tuned out in your ears, as more of these words come from your fingers upon the screen. Its cold outside and you feel that all to familiar pull of that desire for nicotine now. You brush it aside though, there seems to be more pressing matters than your addiction to a cigarette. You don't know why you typed that lovely phrase into the search bar of your browser, but you did. You came across this share your story site, and all of a sudden you find yourself pounding away at the keys with a fervor of description as if you are chasing upon your hope that has so eagerly outran you.

Yes, that is me. Me right at this moment in time, this fragile waking extravagant, and gracious moment in time. *Sighs*

I haven't checked out the other stories yet, but did skim across the bubbles that offered em up. Funny how it works huh? Some of us just can't bear to read the others despair, the others and their feeling of sheer desperation stemmed from a broken comfort, a broken ideal, or a broken hope. *Sighs deeper*

I must digress, as there is more to that than I have need of explaining. This was not a mere hope on just ranting and getting it off my chest.. no.. this was more the idea of confessing the realization that, as so many others, I let someone destroy me, helped them do so, and did with an ignorant smile as I handed them the weapons they desired.

It was around 2 years ago now, a relationship of 5 years. There was no twist, no maniacal abuse on a physical level. Abuse yes, on such an unexpected, unknown level, inexperienced level it has taken me this long to really be able to describe it. To give to it a form of expression, a form of .... understanding.

And now, I look into the mirror, unsure of that person looking back at me. It is like I am looking at the reflection of a completely different person. Or even more so, like I'm staring at the dead me. In 5 years, someone was able to completely destroy me... no I take that back, 2 people were able to completely destroy almost every part of who I was.

I could go into details about what they did to me, how my anger was my only will to wake up. How dragging myself out of bed was beyond a mountain climb. When looking in the mirror, oh looking in the mirror. *Cringes* It still comes back when I see myself in there.

Fear, fear, fear and nonexistent self worth. Deathly pale body, deathly weakened physical form. No dramatics, no over indulgent exaggerations, no. I died, and they helped kill me. For 7 years now I have been trying so hard to find any part of me that was good, that wasn't broken and thrown away, that wasn't thrashed against the glass of landfill of broken self esteem, self reliance, and self security. That wasn't taken, wasn't asphyxiated by the layers of forced dependency.

Now that is aside, that is slowly becoming better, and here I sit in front of my flickering monitor, trying hard to find the point of moving forward. The why of it, the point beyond eating sleeping, working, playing. No the real purpose of who I am, who I was. 28 years of knowing myself, and then boom, now it's been 7 years of complete confusion.

I guess the real reason for me, because of who I am, is I am no longer the only one affected by this loss of who I am, of who I was, and who I could be. No, no, there are others now. If I cannot be... reliable as the world sees fit, driven, as the world sees fit, or even capable, as the world sees fit. Then it sinks. Of course we all know this, right?

I'm unsure of where to start to understand what parts of me are lost. 5 years in a fog so thick, you breathed it in and out. A verbal fog, an emotional fog, a spiritual fog, and a mental fog so overpowering it was if I was dating Diablo, and had a best friend named Cerebus. There is truly so much more to the story, but this story is about them, this story for once is truly about me.

I struggle to find the will, the point, or even the drive to move on every morning. I cannot continue to do this, yet I do exactly that. I continue, because in me resides a rebellion and its making itself very comfy. I look forward, and it's nowhere to be found. The fog is still thick, but at least I can feel like I'm breathing.

Everyday for 5 years, I walked in steel rain, and in the arms of my lover I felt the Immolating comfort of a greedy soul succubus bringing instead of love just the open abyss of glacial wind. I'm sure that most of us have experienced something along these lines. I am no different, have had it no harder, or easier than anyone else. All of us lose ourselves from time to time... right? It's normal to come back and find the fog lifted, the reason for moving on is important, and there is light at the end of the tunnel? OR are we so lost in the despair that others have created that we cannot fathom and idea of escape?

There is a strangeness we all embrace, a strangeness of confusing realms of dark and evil comfort. We accept it because its all we can understand, as it claims to understand. It'll promise only to take a little, and we say okay because we justify the despair we feel. Then it shows its lie, offering us a little more slavery for the thing we so desire, so we ****** it up, we ****** it up quicker than we can blink throwing out the knowledge that we have. That knowledge that we know it'll happen. Sweet words, sweet intentions met with the full frontal force of the iron maiden. And they'll close it faster than you can open your mouth to protest. Next thing you know, oh holy, the next thing you know, you wake up one day wondering where in the world have you been for the past .. what has it been? 3 years?... what no? 5 years?!!! How, what? What in the world just happened? Where am I, there is part of me lost in there and now you are stealing me away?

Yes that right, this is the time you fall to your knees, tears streaming, begging, pleading, making deals, saying this or that, and never do you accept the reality that all of this is completely pointless. Your are feeding and strengthening their ego, their self worth by feeding them your own. So.. through the tear covered haze, the black hole within your whole being, and the destruction of millions of atom bombs going on within every single one of your nerves, you end up shaking yourself with despair so badly, you don't sleep for three days. You keep going, barely able to sleep anyway.. 4 days now. You see the fridge, as you have no way of taking care of yourself as it's been to long of being denied a way to do so. In it, is food, but it is no longer yours. No longer do you have any claim to it. So you don't dare open the door now. You go and lay down.. desperately trying hard to figure out a way to sleep. You know you need it, your body is starting to fail. But you have no way to sustain it. You lay there, and even sheer exhaustion doesn't claim sleep for you. No you toss, turn, cry, shake. Countless feelings run through every part of your body, you are truly unsure if you are burning in hell or not. You move your so very weary muscles off of the couch in the very packed back room that is used for storage and you move to the window. There is nothing out there, the illusion of trust is no longer within your eyes. The true realization that this world and all that it stand for and with, they are truly the enemy. They hate you, and are feeding off every single amount of your misery. *shakes his head*

You grab a backpack and put in a plastic bottle of water, a pen and 25 printed off resumes. This is the 6th day. You walk the town until you can barely move your legs, with the only number you have. You walk back only to see that she isn't there anyway. She won't be. No, she's trying to escape you, she's so demented towards you, and all it took was the one second of thunder before the steel rain pelted your life with hate. Your quote friend, unquote, calls you. More pretending to be there, when in reality, he's feeding off your pain because he's been chasing your love for the past 5 years. You were the illusion, you were the step they used to increase their own self worth, and the cost of yours. Finally you cannot do it anymore, you open the door, drop the backpack and realize you still have chores to do, because you said you would. You vacuum the house, the couches, the chairs. Clean the bathrooms, kitchens, and the computer room. You make sure all dishes are done, even though you haven't dirtied them. You take out the trash, and then you drag yourself to the bedroom in prayers of sleep. You finally feel the sedation come over you and you suddenly awaken 20 minutes later to the sounds of her voice. She's on the phone with someone, complaining about your relationship with stories that never happened. You aren't sure to whom, but it matters very little. It's good to hear her voice. To hear it, and hope that in some impossible way this could all be a seriously lucid bad dream. But your heart sinks, because it knows, there is no way that could be true.

The next day, as you wake up, off 3 hours of sleep, and nothing to eat, you grab your back pack and head out to do more applications, more resume's. and walk them all. Hours of doing so you pray you will get a job soon, no matter what it may be. It doesn't come, as she doesn't pay the phone bill. She calls you worthless because you have no job, berates and belittle your inability to work for 5 years but continues to cut off every single door you need to have open. Then it comes to it. She tells you to move out, you do and your friends take you in. Friends you haven't talked to in years seem to show up, looking like real true friends. Only to realize, it was only more of the same, but by the Grace of God, there is someone out there that helps because you need it, not because they want in return. Your life begins to take such an awakening turn and for the next 2 years it brightens beyond what you thought possible from the day you thought about dying in a ditch....

And then you look in the mirror one last time, tears streaming from your eyes because you just don't recognize yourself, you don't know who you are. The more certainty you have, the more you lose yourself.

I do not know what else to do to find myself, how can you find something you don't know to look for? I don't know how to fix the problem, I don't have an answer, nor a solution of any sort. To continue on the most fragile yet powerful thing in this world, (time), I move forward, because honestly, I just don't know what else to do.

Look in that mirror, and if you don't recognize who that is looking back, close your eyes. Close your eyes tight, and make that decision, yes that DECISION to move forward anyway. Someday, I have hope anyway, maybe we'll meet up with ourselves again.. when it happens, If it happens, we can honestly lift our heads up high, and look in the mirror and tell ourselves that at least we tried! Even if we didn't find ourselves, we tried. Even our reflection can't clam that.

One day, walking down that street I bump into myself and I laugh and have a good conversation right in the middle of a crowd of people. Maybe it's a time when I stop on the side of the road to help someone, and without even getting out of the truck, I see myself in the rearview and I start laughing as I've been in the backseat the whole time.

Maybe it's even that coffee shop. Surrounded by the aroma of coffee and pastries. that old coffee house smell, the fear of the surrounding people, the discomfort of so many disillusioned minds. And in through the door strides in that person I recognize instantly. And without hesitation he comes to my table, sits down and take a drink of my coffee and looks to me.

"I've been looking for you my friend, and I ain't leaving again!"
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Dec 8, 2012