[Sometimes I can look through my photos and see a life inauspiciously marked with loneliness and false community. And some of the times that perhaps others cherished so well, and probably assumed were bright spots in my life, were only grinning masks on a body later found hollow. And maybe it would hurt them to say that — I’m sorry I am not good at loving— but I loved them in the moment and maybe I still do and maybe every once in a while I had a glimmer of hope that they did too. But hope in them is not a reality. It is not sustainable.]
More and more it seems I am in a pastry shop with my face pressed up against the glass display case. The scent of sweet fellowship and the Pavlov response of ignorance salivating a full feeling in my heart, while also juxtaposing the emptiness. And I see the shining icing and flaky sweets, but the glass is in between us. And even more so I know from past experience that when you are able to make it around to the other side of the counter and can push open the sliding glass door, it is the world’s biggest disappointment — to find the pastries are made of plastic.
All you can do is look and hunger and become embittered to any sense of community that you ever dreamed of. And it turns back to fire on you, you who could not survive without, who did not lack for nothing. And holding onto something you craved that does not exist. You’re told that you are made for this, when all along it is just an apparition of a spirit left behind and unfulfilled and there is no true love from one to another. That is a supernatural gap to be bridged and unfortunately you and everyone else have seemed to be too weak to take even the first step. Disillusionment sinks in and you realize that perhaps it is better off that you are lonely and that there are not even people around for your community-starved heart to lust over. And you break up with the dream and reality of community. I break up with the empty reality of a dream gone deferred that over time exposed its nonexistence.