Story: Trapezoid Schizoid.


Associated poems and writings:


(the woman I have loved the most is the woman who has
been intrigued by my behavior)
(and because of my behavior, she liked me)
(and I observed her demeanor)
(and to me it seemed so vitally...)
(important that I should marry her)


----
Up past the misty mountains...
But across the sea...
There is a solitudinous place of ease
(Merely behind the trees)
And if you'd like, you can come with me
(Just after the midnight breeze)
And when you arrive here, I humbly ask
(Please hug and kiss me, Brittny.)


----

I can understand why you said what you did,
and I can understand what you meant.
But what maybe I don't understand completely
Is the dread you put in my sad sentiment.

----

Someone thought his story was heavier than those of the rest,
And so he exalted himself and yelled, "Pity me, pity me, friends and enemies alike!"
The friends looked on in disgust, while the enemies laughed and jeered;
And then the enemies oppressed him and afflicted him, and his suffering intensified;
Finally with his face to the ground, he shouted,
"Enough!"
The tears from his face soaked into the ground as his enemies gasped, vaporized, and rose into the atmosphere as gas;
And then he looked up and saw him standing there. And he merely looked at him. And he looked back.
And then he gasped, shook, and arose with the rest of them.

----

In one of the longest eye-contact battles I had ever participated in, to my knowledge, at least with someone I had gotten to know so recently, --
she looked away first, but before she did, a lone tear fell down from her right eye onto her right cheek.
Startled, I said, "What causes your sorrow?"
But at this her face scrunched up even more in pain and yet more tears fell down her face. Seeking some way to reassure her, I arose from my chair and embraced her.
In one of the quietest moments I had ever had, I gave her what I had hoped was a comforting kiss, what she took as a loving kiss, and what would bond us together forever.
----

You know, sometimes we wish things were different. But things are the way they are. We had hoped life would not have been cut short. But once I find out I have mere months to live, it becomes poignant, and rich, and meaningful. Watching an insect crawl over a green leaf on a cherry tree in my backyard moved me to tears, and I think of all the ways that it could have been different. People think of their hopes and dreams, and who they want to marry, and the kind of job they want, and the things they want to do, and the movies they like, and the friends they have, or the online multiplayer video games into which they advanced very far, and it seems like no one is thinking about death, how death is going to come to all of us. But once I realize that, it becomes meaningless. I look forward to meeting God.

----

I just wanted someone to understand. We struggle with these questions of Why to God. Why it doesn't seem fair to us. Why it has to be this way. Why we're different. Why we suffer in so many ways. Why sometimes the young die and the old linger. Why these things happen. Why horrible wars in Africa occur with child soldiering and child drugging and abuse and trauma and rape and murder and extortion and thievery. Why atheists get depressed, and why Christians get depressed. Why I've been so sad. Why. Why. Why.

----

I thought --
if someone --
just understood --
then they --
could sympathize --
with me --
and it seemed --
to me --
that Brittny --
really --
really --
really --
understood --
the kinds --
of problems --
I had.

Because I want someone who knows what I have been through, who can both sympathize and empathize, both share emotion and share practical and functional help.

Okay, I know that others have suffered much more than me. There are abusers, there are sex offenders, there are evildoers and drunkards and all sorts of wicked people out there. There are also righteous, good, holy people, people who build others up, people who encourage others, people who are kind. But I hope you can understand what I mean. There's nothing wrong with wanting someone who can share your experiences.