1/11/2008

I sit here alone in the quietness of my house. Nothing except for the furnace blowing the warm air that is my only consolation at the moment. Why do I get like this, why do I let myself get worked up over small matters, sometimes it’s the perfect storm, something goes wrong, then another, and then it’s the final straw that breaks the back and sends me into a coma like state, moving through my motions feel down and despair but continuing with normal life. This is the first time I have wrote words on how I feel at moments like this. Time will only tell if it will heal how I feel.
Why do I work, what am I doing here? I work so hard to try to better myself to get to better places to get a better salary? But is that what I am really looking for? Or am I just looking for some kind of acceptance. Something to put me at piece with my inner self, will my inner self ever be happy if I receive the acceptance or will I just go on longing for more. I see parallels in my professional life as my personal life. I am always looking for what I am missing and not grateful for what I am not. I have a beautiful house, all new furniture, a brand new tv but yet when I see it I see what I am missing. I do not have curtains, a futon for the extra and other miscellaneous items that need taken care of. To the average passerby probably would not know the difference but to me it does. So what happens when that curtains are hung? Then what? I am sure I will find something else to worry about. I have a wonderful job. I have a great salary and where I work is great. But still I long, long for something more. I feel that I am not recognized for what I do, and granted it really is not a job that brings in the big sale, it’s the job that saves the big sale from going elsewhere. Its hard to put that into numbers and hence harder to put any intangible value on it. If I left would they miss me? Of course, would they replace me of course and move right on, just like all the other ‘invaluable’ employees that left. Yet the offers that are made to me for new positions are well below my standards and I feel I have earned my right to be looked at for much better jobs. Alas my value may not translate well onto paper and hence the rejection.
And then she didn’t answer the phone, the one person I needed to talk to, the one person who could make me feel better about it, the sound of her voice so sassy yet so reassuring would put me at easy and make me know the reasons for the way I feel , though she would never give me false hope and say everything will be ok, instead she would give me suggestions on how to fix. That’s what I love about her, she doesn’t sugar coat it, or hide behind lies when she does not know what to do. Though I have not seen her when she doesn’t know what to do, so that could be different, but so far there is so much to her , she feels like a classic novel every word important but having its own meaning to the reader, leaving you wanting more, leaving you to re-read the book looking for something you missed or a new meaning to the words. Never wanting to put it down or relinquish it to anybody because the meanings behind the words are only meant for you. But alas she did not answer when I called every day we have our cell phone rendezvous, some days the conversations are pointless but we still have them and just this one day. I needed it so very badly she did not answer, of course she has a good reason and I respect it. Will I let her know how badly I needed her to answer the phone? That is hard to say, part of me wants to hold it inside of me and be the strong man not showing no faults, but she knows me already in such a short time she knows I have faults so I should not hide this from her. We will see how that goes.
Writing is therapeutic I feel the emptiness and dread just leaving me through my fingers to keyboard. Such a cleansing experience. *exhale*