nathanael.ink

or think at least, that there is nobody who could truly care but me, about me. funny to want love but chase it off. funny to grieve.. to grieve at all, how funny to be weak. to be meek.. funny to be humble, funny to want to be humble, and someday attain it, and at that time, not aloud to be proud of something you’ve worked so hard to attain.. funny His ways are cryptic, conveniently confounding.. confounds the wise..? the wise? .. how? with “wise” as the one and only character trait, where is the door for failure in a wise man? is he not full of wisdom alone? …

who could believe I am worth more.. but only myself. who could convince me of anything anymore.. who in love, could promise me any fortunate thing? such as a woman who enjoys me or a faith in the everlasting.. of those who have attained what I eagerly seek, which of them could tell me a single bit of what is in store for me.. they reach it, I suppose when do paths seeking it intersect?

With no promise of it at all, how am I to be hopeful in my waiting? what ought I wait for to keep me righteous?  Just for cause of righteousness?… it ought to be.. I just, I cannot bare..  where is another woman I can weave into my preset images? where is a relationship I can seam with thin string and needle, seaming of healthy flesh, sewing away on a good thing, all the holes I make to seam what I imagine each of them ought to have.. when will my eyes be open, and when will a woman not mind..

and when, oh what hour is it I wait for.. when I will have no crave at all. none to see a feminine face, none to pick a string, to sing, to play.. none to write a word to all absent ears.. none to engage myself in anything.. none but the feeling of the absence of all..

and if it is Him I ought to seek to be clear of longing for love.. I will go to Him  again and beg to reasoning “is it not You who have begun it in me? Have You not first taught me the beauty of man and woman? Have you not poured great and thick love upon me all of my days? -how then am I to plead You release me from the desire to emulate..”

perhaps it is all an issue of lust, and perhaps with its nearness I will never taste of love outside of all the undeserving spiritual affections.. but in my defense, a compromise, I reason at the time, is an apt attempt to pass the time which I am waiting in for love to drop in.

and if I step first. I will seek a shape, a shape my mind will never let any woman escape, and I will mold and fill in all the blanks to make her desperately close. until a day comes when she breaks from it, and breaks from me. of such denial, I am deserving. .. while even so, I would desire the idea of a woman somehow loving through.

while I think it, and I see its strong meaning if a woman could love me through denial. still I do see them as great fools. as I cannot imagine what might come over me to keep pursuit. that feeling I seldom have, and even then, of “no”. I can only handle one or two. and then I am out, and by that time, they are more than glad.

I just, cannot begin to fathom, the sort of love which would possess a man to spit in the face of an honest answer.. I for one have yet to feel such a pull to tell myself my reasoning could ever know more, or be more developed, than her’s in deciding if I am deserving of a hand or not.

and in this all, the women who make me feel the best, leave so quickly. though, I can’t say they leave on their own. .. I just, still.   I cannot . help. but think there damn well ought to be something more than all this. . beyond it, beyond.. beyond it all. something He has to show me. something I must see. and not, not just another key to another door I was never looking to understand… but then again, love, as He is love, is an eternal mystery unfolding.

but still strange, that those who find this particular treasure, can give no promise or absolute instruction to me on attaining it. there is no map. just pictures of what it is. for me to assimilate..