two selves meet
"To be alive, yes, alive, but not be able to live it. Ay that's the rub. I am like a stone that lives . . . locked outside of all that's real. . . . Anne, do you know of such things, can you hear???? I wish, or think I wish, that I were dying of something for then I could be brave, but to be not dying, and yet . . . and yet to [be] behind a wall,
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I so do the same thing. I ache for security and serenity, and work so so hard to achieve it. When I finally achieve something resembling it, I grow restless and secretly long for and will back into being the chaos and pain and the sort of excitement that comes with that. I exhaust myself with that drama, and then ache for the security and serenity again. On and on. The dreaded cycle. I know the answer is me. Yet I allow myself to look for a solution outside myself.
(Again Kelly, this writing of yours is so good. You must not ever stop.)
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