Once, a long time ago, it mattered.  But that too passed.

My desire to be something that is no longer possible to be has not diminished the feeling.  It is as it had always been and will most likely still be so tomorrow, faded and worn, tattered and torn.

“It’s the only real time that I feel alive” she confessed in the heat of that moment, her face alive as it had never seemed to me to ever be.  And even that changed with time.  The memory of her dies a little more with each coming and going of the day.  Any day.  Every day.

I sit here so very early in the morning yet again and wonder yet again what this day will hold yet again.  And once I think I know just enough to rise and face the day my mind goes blank and all else fades yet again except for the fear of the morning and the fear of the day.

But I don’t retreat and I don’t shy away from what I need to do and I don’t sit and whine about needing more from those who owe me not a single thing.  That would be wrong.

And I don’t assume the world will be kind to me or have to treat me in any certain way.  Just treat me perhaps as you would yourself want to be treated.  Is any one really better than the best?

And while I hope my family will be there for me when the day winds down it is really me who needs to be there for them.  And I try to be, there for them, but am too often not- not enough anyhow- and that too is just fine if they manage to somehow survive my shortcomings..

But who do I go to when I need that adjustment?  Who can hold the concern that I may need?  And is it selfish to ask for such a thing?

Perhaps.  But maybe not.  Who knows.

I guess that a goodly number of us do the best that we can with that which we have and those who we love and, we surely always hope, those who also love us in return.

When did adolescent angst end and young adulthood confidence arrive?  And then when did that pass into complacency and further still into the terror of the coming end?

Sometimes I just don’t get it, this life.  But then, who cares?  Life was not passed to me so that I could understand.  I’m not sure why it is given but once given it should be lived don’t you think?

I guess I’ve tried to live it and even done some good and some exciting things.  It has rarely been too dull but about average in its dullness.  And now I move on.

Things change and people sometimes do as well but, mostly, we are somewhat predetermined I believe and then shaped further by that and those around us.  So maybe we have no choice but to be who we are even as we struggle mightily to be who we think we want to be, who we think we can be.

Do we even have a chance to get there?

Who knows.  Some would say yes and some would say no. As for me I just don’t know.

And it’s still killing me.