Just Another Nail In The Floor

To say that I hate you is to say that I might hate the sun for its ability to warm and burn me all at once.  I suppose what I feel is frustration and now, more recently, loss.  Not the loss of a person, but the loss of a deranged fantasy I'd built up in my own mind.

My frustration is an older suffering that stems from hopelessness...the hopelessness that rattles the wind chimes every time I am forced to remember that we are inherently different.  I've always been far from normal, and normal is what has always been asked of me.  Rather than believe in myself, believe in my abnormal outlook, I did my best to stay quiet and pass unnoticed.

You seem to believe in Strangeness herself.  You strive to live it.  I have only accepted myself for a short time.  But I accept my oddities now, so why is it we're still not on the same page?

I've figured it out--and it was a difficult thing to come to terms with.  Imagine society as a floor board.  All nails are to be hammered flat in an ideal world.  I have always stuck out of the wood.  I have never been okay with this condition; I knew it was wrong.  Society never had to hammer me flat; I hammered myself on the head in sad attempts to achieve a sense of normalcy.  

You, on the other hand, were born flat.  As the years progressed, you yanked yourself out of the wood--out of the societal ideals you found so restricting.  Of course, you knew this was wrong...but you enjoyed it.  

So here we are, envying each other's station.  Me?  Wishing I could be content outside the boards of wood.  You?  Wishing you could be content within them.  

The truth is, you are the person who made me feel that it might be okay to stick out of the floor.  But I proceed with caution where you run blindly ahead.  And this is why, even when we both stick out of the wood, we still cannot relate to each other.

Knowing this doesn't make it hurt any less.  The logic doesn't assuage the emotions.  I mourn you.  I miss you.  I miss the idea of being with you.  But I am not worth it to you, and in time (hopefully), you will not be worth it to me--just another nail in the floor.  

Never yours,
X