“Please go home, Brad.”
That’s how the message began, thus ending my latest pathetic attempt to give my life any sort of meaning. The irony of it is that “home” has long been a word I’ve used privately to describe the state of mind I always find myself dragged back into when the illusion of hope disappears. Disappointment, loneliness, sleepless nights and unanswered questions—all are on the docket now that I’m back “home.”
How did I end up back here again? I don’t know, but it has to do with tension, completion, closure, and my inability to close any loops of significance. This was going to be a much longer post, but I’m tired. Tired of everything.
I want to thank the friends who supported me while I pursued this hapless endeavor. You have all proven yourselves. I especially look with amazement at the married couples. Surely you will understand how the concept of two people actually loving each other seems totally astonishing to me. I don’t pretend to have any clue how that happens. Something is horribly wrong with me and the way I see the world.
For everyone who is reading this, I ask you not to put stock in anything you read on this ill-begotten website. I am merely your patron saint of futility, and I have no idea what I’m doing.
UPDATE: I will rise to fight again another day. The situation may not be quite this dire, but things are pretty rough.