Why is change the utmost evil to my disposition? I am agitated, scarcely breathing, cold and hot in turns. My heart longs to stay though my mind knows I will calm after I settle down again. I fear I am too sensible, too feeling. It is a fault, and why I often appear unfeeling and cool to others. It is a defense, a protection against harm. I am unfeeling because I am too feeling.
I used to be a romantic; I am still a romantic but now I am also cynical, and thus I despise romance. I despise almost everything nowadays. There is nothing I cannot criticize. Nothing I cannot find fault with.
If I had actually a cold heart I would find such partings less painful. I would notice the sadness in my parents' eyes with no sadness of my own, perhaps only pity. I would turn my mind immediately to my future excitements. Instead, the future holds only the separation, that is all.
The gloom this parting casts on every other part of my life is overwhelming. My classes seem dull in such an absence, my activities frivolous, my friendships shallow and false. Why do I leave such a nurturing, safe home for the vexatious and worrisome environment so many miles away?
I hope to remember the answer—for it is not that I forget but that I do not remember how the answer feels—of why I return to such a cold and desolate place. I hope to be reminded of the joy I know I have felt during classes and activities and among my dearest friends. Gods above, please remind me swiftly, as swiftly as the wind runs across the ocean.
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Poetrysuppose Truth was a woman... * * * A collection of poems & thoughts about life and death and everything in between. * * * Disclaimer: Everything you read here was collected directly from my notes and journals, so please excuse any excess passion or...
