When will my fear of existence ever cease?

Ever since Emma left me... I haven't been the same. I was so naive back then; love-clouded and dilly-dallying my time away, since I had a lifetime to procrastinate.
I believed all the shit– You get married, happily-ever-after happens, you have kids, suddenly you're middle-aged with grey hair.
But it doesn't matter because you come home to a cozy suburban nest, greeted by your wife, whose mouth is lined from smiling. The house smells like carpet, lavender, chicken soup, and her. Always has. She tells you about her phone conversation with Sam she had that day– How he aced his biology exam. you both smile and settle into the evening together. You're old now, but it's okay, because you don't care anymore.

That never happened to me.
Here I am.
Old.
Greyed. Even my pubes are salted and peppered now.

My sons and I relate like chums. Our relationship goes way back, back in the day. I'm also a life coach to them. Perhaps a lender occasionally. My pupils check in periodically, and they try to avoid mentioning their mother.
We laugh and catch up, but at the end of the day, we all go home. They go to their friends and roommates in college, and I go to my empty house.

My house has no feminine touch anymore. I mean, it makes sense, and I do like it. But it feels like something's missing. I guess our mothers spoiled us for a certain type of cozy.
I can't bring myself to buy any stupid nick-knacks. Those ceramic owls are not fucking worth 8 bucks. But every time I reach for the remote, I can't help but notice how bare that damn side table looks. I'm still not ready for an owl yet, though.
I guess it's kind of like an expired bachelor pad, maybe? Something about that just doesn't sit right. It's weird like the cat lady house, sans cats. It's full when you look at it, but it's just off. You don't want to admit it's because she's alone. Something smells funny. In my case it isn't the litter box, but the lack of any sorts of fabricated smells, I suppose. No incense or perfume. No candles. I smell my TV, the carpet, and my kitchen smells like a popcorn microwave. the bathroom has an ever-so-faint piss odor because I hate cleaning the toilet rim. It's a little gross I guess. But no cake smells, or flower smells. No doilies either. Emma had those under some decorative goodies. They seemed useless, but I can't help but notice how blunt some objects look without them, now. She had a little one she insisted upon putting the remote on. My remote has no doily to snuggle up with. The only affection it gets is my hand.

Oh well, though. I'm just talking into the breeze. I should go to bed now.

Leaves scuttle by feet
Wind breathes its secrets
Go, stupid people

Eric, you finally did it. You really did it this time. You have reached new levels of unmotivation. Why aren't you suicidal? Because you're too damn lazy to kill yourself. Real special guy right here, everyone.

It's funny seeing how this shitty sea we call life tosses me wherever the fuck it wants. I'm pretty sure the ebb tide is pulling me from everything I've ever loved. Friends feel like memories right now, memories feel like they require too much thinking. I cling to my hobbies because they can be done on autopilot. Even writing this feels like too much work. My faith? I can't even begin to think about that right now. Just like I can't even begin to think about school, or money, or love, or motivation, or bathing. I wake up and focus on the stupid dog all day because she's a time drain, and not me.

I know what I want in life, you know? I know what will make me feel alive, what will bring me joy and make me feel useful. Life is one giant project with a due date that's too easy to procrastinate on.

But as with every project I seem to encounter in life, I don't know where to begin. I can see the end painting. but I don't know what medium to use. Or where to paint it. Or what to start painting with.

I don't know what job I want. I don't know who I want to spend my life with. I don't know where I want to live. All I know is that I want to be there for a few people. I want my friends to stick by me. But I want to be there and willing to die for that nuclear family.

I’ve spent countless hours trying to
justify.
Wasted some good time wondering why.
Pondering what made you change your mind,
and whether it’s fair to say you’ve been unkind.

But I got some peace knowing
It’s a common trouble of youth,
And my feelings towards you won’t

Always be so uncouth.

No one ever learns what they need
‘til it’s lost.
And I suppose it’s a blessing

To be spared that cost.

Was it that my motivation came too late?
Or maybe I’m just a hopeless puppet of fate?

I don’t like knowing it’s done.

At least what little was there was lived in my head,
and fun.
Now I know next time you’re in my life
To give it a go before it passes me by.

I pray that it may be less of a loss and more relief.
Let yourself take comfort for I've finally found my sleep.
A time has come where there is nothing left to be,
A conscience softly drifting and a soul has been released.
You feel respect must be payed and your heart is torn.
But let me decompose, I've been well-used and worn.

When you lay me down,
I hope for celebration, and not sorrow.
I have said my goodbye, but for you there's still tomorrow.
Do not waste your kind tears on my fading memory.
The past has been forgotten by the universe, like me.

When they lay me down,
Give thanks that I had life.
And then give thanks again,
For you still have yours.

I think I have found the answer to life. It is "gray".

I find myself lonely these days. I always identified as an introvert. 5 years ago I would tell you I hate parties, I don't like meeting new people, and I would prefer to be at home on the weekend. But now it seems to have changed. I often seek the companionship of my acquaintances these days.

I have come to appreciate the value and necessity of my fellow people. How important it is to have community. It has truly improved my depression.

But I still feel lonely. I'm more of an adult than ever. I don't have anybody I love to be an emotional support these days, not like I used to. There is no best friend to vent to. No boy to tell my insecurities to. No parents of mine or my friends to readily get advice from. No girls to dish out the deets to. My daily victories are often enjoyed in the silence of my car, alone.

I end up fanning out my affections for people, giving a little bit here and there. It does feel good, but isn't the same.
I guess I kind of understand why many people are chronically in relationships, now. Once you bond with someone in that way, you always miss it, even if slightly, and never enough to settle. It's a special type of affirmation and happiness.

It's a tough pill to swallow, but having it and then losing it makes living without it all the better for personal growth.

I wish I knew when I started to somehow become more social but more reclusive. I don't share nearly as much with others as I used to. I feel like details of my life are a burden. I used to get excited to tell people all about my day. But then I started to slowly share less, figure: "that's not really necessary..."; Assume that sharing an insecurity is feeding an insecurity; figured I shouldn't annoy people because they often don't care.
Now I wonder if people are supposed to care, and I shouldn't cater to carelessness.

Who knows.

Who are you? I don't understand you at all, Emma.You're gone. You got the kids. Can we leave it at that? I don't want to know anything about your life, so please stop meddling with mine. Stop leaning in my doorway and checking up on my progress with that smile. It throws me off.
Seriously. What the hell do you think I'm going to do? Push out my chair and leap up with a chipper grin to tell you about all the happy shit that's going on in my life? No. you know full well as soon as I turn my head and see your smile, all I can see is your goddamned smile. the same one that used to crack at my jokes and tell me I was everything to you.
Fuck your smile. If you cared about me at all (which you don't, so I suppose this all makes sense), you would just disappear and stay gone, be nothing but a fairytale I hear from the boys.

Peer over the edge, but do not fall.
The last words spoken to them all.
Every single one fell over the ledge,
Bloodfall sprinkled the little hedge.

.

"Let me in", the vixen pleads.
Her black eyes shine like onyx beads.
And with a flick of her tail she wins your heart.
With pointed ears, velvet fur, and a purr, she plays the part.
She licks your hand and pads right in, her tufted rear brushes your shin.
Her onyx gaze looks sweetly around, her little rump plops to the ground.
And with a flick of her tail she wins your heart.
Suddenly she's back up with a start.
Then she pleads: "Let me out!"

.


Eric wished to drink some tea.
So he invited company.
His guests arrived, his water hot.
He sat them down, and poured a pot.
Afternoon passed and evening came,
And the guests would leave all the same.