Floating on Daydreams

Losing

I am a loser. 

Not in the "Oh my God, what a total loser" kind of way--at least not entirely--but more in the sense that I have witnessed so much loss, pain, anger and sadness in my life that I no longer respond to happiness for fear of losing it. And lose it  I do. Every single time. But we all know that happiness is fleeting, right?

Still, somehow the hope that someday, I will be completely happy is alive and kicking in me. But for that to happen, I know that everyone I love will have to be happy too. And I'm not quite so sure that that is even possible. There's always someone upset; someone losing something, no matter where it is I am. So here's to loss. This poem is called 'Losing'. 

Here's to rainforest eyes that will not dry up; to morning mist that doesn't lift even with the arrival of the sun.

Here's to love found and love lost, creating an earthquake and a tsunami with waves that toss the way I can't get comfortable when I'm trying to fall asleep. Love leaves. I grieve. That's the way it works for me.

Here's to half empty cups with dusty rims and stretched out souls that long to live. 

Here's to mornings that seem better than usual, the way warm hugs feel until they're over; to mourning at funerals that weren't supposed to happen this soon.

Here's to my friends who refuse to believe that I love them too.

Here's to Cancer--it's become more than a disease to me. It's not possible to consider something that took the lives of three of your loved ones to be just a disease, because diseases are supposed to be cured so that the boy with the blue eyes and the girl who disguised her fear can live happily ever after.

Here's to pain, always there, greeting everyone by name, like a friend would, except it's so much more personal than friendship. When it comes, nothing is the same. When it leaves, everything has changed. Other people move on, and I don't know how to, so I spin in retrograde, hoping that maybe someone will teach me how to be sane again.

Here's to all the losers in the world. I can't promise anything but solidarity. I will hold your hand, regardless of whether we are in touching distance or not. I will be there when the world is on fire and you are soaked in kerosene. I will burn with you in my sleep. Understand that when you hurt, I hurt too. Even if I've never met you, empathy and experience are the matchmakers of souls, and we are linked by them both, so I will stand by you when the ocean swells up and breaks free of the barricade that holds back the torrent that resides in your eyes.