Isolation

Isolation, my greatest role I’ve played in life, since the time I was able to read and write.  It has spilled over in my adulthood.  Isolation is a part of my career goals and my present occupation.  In relationships, my loyalty is isolated as either an advantage or disadvantage, because my heart gets broken so I endure more pain than others.  My pain isn’t masked in sexual intimacy, as though I often wished, but my pain is captured in my thoughts that turns in words that turns into loneliness.  No one reads, so no one cares if my pen touches my notebook and disclose, my greatest role in life, isolation.  I’ve been isolated in the true passions of making love.  I’m afraid of the unknown.  The unknown of if I survive it, after holding back for so long, the truths will be spoken of how I really feel.  Remember, life, motivates me to write.  Isolated in a room of all the ‘ists and ‘isms of this world because my pedigree type grew up in the streets and there’s no one else sitting at this round table who can identify with me, except for the community of notebooks and journals that we all share.  I am the go to person, that isolates me, who can I go to when I need a touching hand, or a rub on my shoulder?  My pen has cried and laughed so much that even it doesn’t want to speak on my behalf.  Isolation they say, leads to depression.  Depression to me, is trying to figure out, why I am 35 years old and not married yet, again?  I hate that.  I hate that.  I hate that. I hate that.  No, you don’t understand. I hate that.  I. really.hate.that!  I’m happy, on the outside but somehow feel that people can still see what’s hiding on the inside.  So I hide behind my pen and paper because there is where my comfort zone resides, there is where my best friend lives and knows all of my secrets, there is my world that I can create the perfect husband and live happily ever after.  My pen and paper  is my isolation, and that I am proud of.

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