Art Doesn’t Betray.

Why do we hold on, when we should let go?

I’m sick of crying. I’m stuck in this deja vu of emotion, but it’s not even real. If it was I would be able to write about it. It’s just a sad, cheesy song playing on loop.

My ego is hurt and I’m confused. I deserve better. Suddenly it’s easy to idealize past relationships, people who are long gone from your life, when the present is bleak.

I have no one to blame but myself. I’m afraid of this pit of loneliness, and being with him chases it away, at least superficially. But I don’t feel loved, so consequently I can’t experience love. There are too many barriers between us. I’m at the point where I’ve resolved myself either to a fate of loneliness or settling for whatever is there. Sometimes he’s a nice distraction, but something is always missing. I  hope time will fill this emotional void but the gap only gets wider.

Can I be strong?

I only find strength in running away and shutting everyone out. You must do that, to reinvent yourself. You crawl into a dark cave underground and go through the horrific process of catharsis, it is so gruesome no one should be allowed to witness it.

This notion was rewarded with proof before. At my lowest I was at my highest. Alone I strove and achieved things I was later proud of, it was the influence of others that stumped my progress.

Can I be strong by running away? I know he won’t run after me to catch me and make everything okay again. Not him, maybe someone else. Maybe no one ever again. Or maybe I just have to do it for myself this time.

Back to the mirror, back to the same much discussed issue of internal conflict that bleeds into everything else that concerns my life and relationships. It’s difficult to separate the patient from his disease. Is he defined by it? Or can he be cured, overcome it? Leave it behind and be reborn?

What must I do?

I can’t keep making promises to myself and never keep them. It’s just that little gap between dependance and freedom that I have to overcome. If I stay away long enough I could heal and be restored to my former glorious self: strong and impervious to emotion, dedicated to art and nothing human.

Art, after all, doesn’t betray.