Chasing Rainbows

Has loneliness ever killed anyone?—I wonder as I sit in my room, staring at the ceiling. It's a Thursday night, I can almost smell the weekend and the dreadful feeling of nothingness—a void, a quiet hum deprived of energy—that accompanies it. 

It's raining outside, everything seems damp. I want to do nothing yet I long to stimulate my dopamine and other jovial chemicals. It's been particularly hard to find things interesting lately. I think it happens every now and then; when it rains it freaking pours. I don't know what it is but it is there, always, sometimes hiding in the corner just waiting to leap on you and suck all your feelings and leave you empty. 

I often think about how I have a lot of things to talk about but nobody to listen to, then I get sucked into a cycle where I'm scared my words will get lost in the abyss. I'm starting to feel like I'm reaching out in the hopes that someone, anyone, will be willing to have a conversation with me. I talk to myself often, I know most of the people do. However, I usually talk only with myself and that's concerning; there's a lack of connection and also lack of counter ideas which inhibits introduction of new perspectives.

It aches me sometimes how I've never had certain experiences in life, experiences that define youthful adventure—the effortless connections formed in earlier years, which are seemingly so common among people. Some of those, I'm never going to ever experience, as they can only be experienced at certain point of your life and that point is way past me. I look forward to the ones that are left; and at times I see a few fly past me. 

I wonder if some people are never meant to have certain things in life, even if those things are seemingly mundane, yet priceless. 

I struggle connecting with people, I do meet new people though, but I tend to distance myself from those who want to stay, while trying to cling to those who wish to distance themselves from me. It's always my thoughts, which race at a supersonic speed, that contribute to this distance. Now I'm scared to get close to anyone because I think I might push them away. 

But how can I pull someone close if I always fear of pushing them away? 

Perhaps I think I'm too much for anyone to take in.

At times I'm too much for myself. 

But that's who I am and I'll continue to be myself even if it means rejection or lack of connections.

Love is perhaps one of the very rarest feelings I've had the pleasure of in life. I had been under the impression that I was very hard to love until I was bombarded with it by someone who apparently let it all out at once only to say she couldn’t do it anymore. 

Love is simple yet complex; you just have to let it lead yet it can lead you to places where you may never receive it; it's something natural yet something you need to master to be worthy of receiving. 

Will love ever be enough to make one whole? 

Love can make you feel alive yet cannot make you whole.

It can be the driving force yet you have to take the steps. 

I've been terribly sick for the last couple of days. There's nothing much to keep me occupied with and that's when your mind wanders and you feel the most isolated. The worst part about being sick is, it makes you dislike the things you'd otherwise enjoy doing. It also makes you feel lonelier; at times perhaps more than you thought you'd ever be. 

But there's no scale to loneliness.

Every time its wave feels more suffocating than the last, more intense than it had ever been.

I think there's always something and there will always be something. This void will remain with me for as long as I'm alive. I cannot switch it on and off, I can only welcome it since controlling it is futile. I just wish I had someone to share the burden with, as it weighs me down and at times I feel I might cave in. 

I feel like chasing rainbows, but I think I need to reach for the Sun. 

But what's the point? 

Is it worth all the efforts? 

How do others find the reason to reach for theirs, especially when the path feels so heavy? 

Perhaps reaching for the Sun isn't about one huge leap, but about finding a series of tiny, almost imperceptible steps in the rain. 

How do you steer the weight when it feels like too much to carry alone?