I can't say for sure how I am feeling at the moment. Disappointed. Disabled. Discarded. Dejected. It's a start.
I sit here, tired eyes, worn heart and I wonder, is there ever going to be anyone - anyone who is going to understand me; or anyone who is going to want to understand me and then stick around?
It's been an isolating week. I've felt very much like a lone soldier - except I seem to have misplaced my fight. I'm standing in the trenches - muddy, cold and battered and I can't bring myself to raise my weapon. I keep waiting for things to turn on their side, but they never do.
I don't even have the energy to be angry or passionate. I'm walking that line between here and there and it is an awkward place to be.
In a few weeks time I will be setting off overseas - to places beyond my imagination - the stuff of postcards and wall prints. When I can move beyond the stress of organising it; when I can think about just being in the moments, I figure I won't feel so empty then. I'll fill my experience cup, and perhaps when I return home, plentiful cup in hand - I will be able to drink from the warming memories and remember what it was like to be somewhere other than here. Remembering, that for at least a time, I didn't always dwell in this place.