I often get depressed. So sad, I tremble and cry uncontrollably, hating my own existence. It’s during these times I think that someone, I don’t know who, but someone could feel me.

They could sense my troubled heart and my restless soul longing for an early death.

Whoever they were, they would respond.

I thought they would feel my coldness and project instead–warmth. They would tell me with their pulse that I was not cold and alone, but warm and full of life.

Always at this point, my fantasy would shatter. Who would love a wretch? I wasnt always such an animal but over time I had learned to be.

These days, by moonlight, I cry to the moon and wish my own death. I weep. It’s an endless sorrow. I am cursed. Perhaps of my own doing.

Immediately, I feel a strange warmth beating from far away, like a pulsating star–it was someone who could feel my aching heart.

This faceless stranger…did they know my fate? I felt them. They were seeking me. Seeking me eternally.

I laughed. I’m a fool. A cursed, wretched thing, forever bound to clash with existence itself. No one seeks me!

Then feel it. I feel my heart beat and then another’s. I feel I am mad.

But my tears cease.

I stare with wide eyes, at nothing, and feel that second heartbeat beating in some unknown distance.

Some strange force, like a warm string, tugged at the edges of my soul.

No, I have imagined it. There is no one seeking me. What stranger would possibly be waiting in that uncertain future?

My sorrow stabs me like a wound, so real, I grip my chest and wail. Fresh tears fall and I am in pain.

Light pierces the dark of my mind. You beat real and warmly in the unknown. Steady and annoying. You won’t let me forget you.

Now I wonder if I seek you too.

I bite my lip. You are out there, in time and space. You exist. Uncertain and true.

Keeping beating, a burning heart, like a star in the unknown. My pain pulls you to me.


Am I strong enough to wait?

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