When? Any time. Out of nowhere. Perhaps it's hibernating in me, then something arouses it, it knows its hungry, and demands to be fed with, I don't know, what? How do I feed it, or starve it once and for all? What do I do? Why do I feel this way? I do not know. But I do feel it, much as I hate it (and me for feeling it). I look out at the world and see all sorts of reasons for it to be inside me. I can think back over my life and see reasons for its life in me there, too, but I feel no sympathy for that boy, for that young man. Made his own bed. No one is innocent, and I surely am a piece of the proof.
I do not know where this pain comes from. It is partly loneliness, no doubt. It is maybe grief, but over what? It has the taste of loss, but of what?
I don't know.
What I do know: It makes me aware of a huge, gaping pit inside me. Something is missing, utterly missing. Something is gone, something I need to be healthy mentally. And I get the distinct feeling that I will never have it. So I go on like this.
And I hate myself for it. Oh, I do. Passionately. I hate myself for needing at all. I hate myself for what I am, and for what I am not. I hate myself for taking from the earth, for giving nothing but pain in return. How much more poison will I generate for this earth that supports me? How much more oxygen will I absorb? How much more garbage will I create? How many more people will I hurt?
Oh my father in heaven, I pray it will not be too many more. I pray I will not be any more of a burden than I already have been. On this beautiful Saturday afternoon, I pray for just one mercy: a quick end, and soon. I am so tired of the pain, I grow weak in bearing it, and it cannot be healed. It just cries to be fed, and I can't feed it, and I can't kill it. I can't bear it, even. I can't carry it. God have mercy on my worthless soul.
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