you is we

I'm perplexed.

Sometimes I feel like people don't understand my writing.  One of the reasons I write such long entries is because I try to explain myself so thoroughly so as to be as clear as possible.  As I write, I always try to keep the reader in mind, always try to come up with questions they may have or points they want to bring up and then address those questions/points right there in the entry.

Sometimes I think this helps convey a deeper, more well-rounded comprehension of the topic at hand and other times I think I end up making my thoughts more muddled.  I wonder if, because of the length of my entries, some people just skim to get a general idea of what I'm writing and then throw a note my way, which happens to bring up a point already covered in the entry.  And I get confused because I think to myself, I already covered that.  It can get frustrating sometimes because I second guess myself, wondering if I did indeed properly convey my message.

But then I get notes from diarists who say they can relate, that I wrote exactly what they would have written had they covered the same topic.  And it feels so good.  I think to myself, Hey, I just made a connection there.  It feels good to be able to share a feeling or thought or opinion and even better to know that someone gets it because a lot of the time, I don't think anyone does.

But that's a silly way to feel.  I keep struggling to realize that no one is really alone as far as their thoughts and feelings go.  No one has ever felt a unique emotion.  Circumstances and individual experiences will differ, of course, but the feelings are all the same.  We all feel the desire, the hunger, the joy, the fear, the lust, the anticipation.  We've all gone through that a time or two (or a million).

When you strip away the backgrounds and upbringings, the religion and the prejudices, we are all alike.  We are all human.  We all bleed the same and love the same and hurt the same.  We are all connected.  We are all each other.  Our differences are minimal in comparison to our similarities.  But it's those insignificant differences that drive us apart so many times and it helps us to forget that we all want the same stuff.  We all want love.  We all want to be happy.  We all want to be accepted and recognized and it hurts me when I see those who don't get the recognition they deserve.   

I browse random people's diaries and Tumblrs and other blog-type social websites and my chest grows heavy with all the pain and despondency I come across.  We're all hurting to some degree.  We are all lacking something in our lives and I wonder if that's what's supposed to drive to keep us going.  What if that pain is supposed to propel us forward?  But it often causes us to back peddle.  Maybe we are meant to keep seeking until we find it is what we are looking for.  But do we ever find it?

It amazes we how we can be so mean to each other when all we want is to feel like we belong, to find someone to love and love us and keep us safe.  You want it and I want it so why is it that I ignore you and you tear me down?  Why do we pull apart when we are each others solution?  We tear at each other and sometimes tear at ourselves.

It seems so simple but I suppose we want it all.  People get so specific about their saviors.  They have to act the perfect way and say just the right thing and look attractive throughout.  There's been a few occasions where I could have been there for others but I didn't quite work for them, whether it was physically or emotionally, etc.  I wasn't a perfect match but I was a good fit. 

Even recently, I reached my hand out to someone only to have it slapped away because it wasn't manicured enough.  But what else can I do?  I tried.  I won't continue to seek out someone who doesn't want my help because I can't be their "everything."  There's a good chance you'll never find your "everything" in one person.  Isn't that why humans are social creatures.  To expand their limbs and touch multiple people, to find comfort in one, humor in another?

I couldn't have made all the pain go away but I could have taken away some of it because I feel that same pain.  We're all alike, remember?  I knew what the other person didn't about taking away some of the hurt but it hurt me more knowing they didn't want to hear it from me because I wasn't what they were looking for.  It's pretty typical.  I try to help people and end up hurting more.  And that's the way it goes with a lot of people.  We try, we genuinely try.  And then get torn apart and so we learn to keep our hands and opinions to ourselves.

The trick is to unhinge our hands from our bodies and reach out again, despite the possibility of more pain, despite the fear of rejection.  We can assuage the agony so why don't we?  What holds us back?  Someone else's standards?  Our own?  It makes no sense to stand in a room full of people starved of love and keep our distance with our arms folded across our chests so tight like a flesh and bone straight jacket.

We have hurt ourselves.  We have hurt each other.  We fire off words and weary like machine guns.  We spread the blood and debasement like finger paint.  We don't hug.  We don't help.  We only condition each other to hurt.

We are not monsters.  We are not animals.  We are humans.  With fragile hearts.  With fragile heads.  And the pain sets in and fogs everything until we lash inward and outward.  We separate from each other when we should pull toward each other.  It makes so much sense but it's the hardest thing in the world.