I generally don't post stuff on my blog written by others, irrespective how good or relevant it is. But there's a first time for everything so I'm making an exception. The following is an email I received from an acquaintance. And I stress the word acquaintance rather than friend, because this person knows nothing about me yet understands me better than my own friends perhaps. This email captures that essence that I've been struggling to find...
Maybe I do have you confused with someone else? The girl I am refering to is mentally tough, insightful, adamant, & always sure of herself. The only time she crumbles is when her love life fails to add up like it should. The problem is within the numbers. Out of 98% of the guys she meets, they just fail to impress. The other 2% that come close to what she is looking for bring a certain hope and possibility. This hope/possibility mixed with a certain void or loneliness can lead to a bad combination of judgement. The question is at what point was the person following their heart, and at what point was it a certain void and loneliness that dictated their emotions?
Sometimes a person finds themselves heartbroken not because of the person who broke it, but rather the fact that they are forced to let go of that one thing they were holding on to. Once their hopes are crushed, with no one to hold on to, and no one in the horizon to look forward to.... the big empty void feels bigger then ever. This is the reason why they feel heartbroken, lost, & 100 other emotions. They are disappointed at themselves, they feel let down again, and that bleak outlook fogs up optimism. That big void consumes so much energy, that they question if they will ever find what they are looking for. They question their own strength & insight, and they have to channel through their emotions until they find a way to recharge their emotional batteries. They want that peace of mind, but their head is a mess.
*for those of you who know what my name means
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz. At your local library they have these arranged in ways that can make you cry, giggle, love, hate, wonder, ponder, and understand. It's astonishing to see what these twenty-six little marks can do. In Shakespeare's hands they became Hamlet. Mark Twain wound them into Huckleberry Finn. James Joyce twisted them into Ulysses. Gibbon pounded them into The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. John Milton shaped them into Paradise Lost.
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