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?