Maybe I need to write about my depression.
Or just write when I’m depressed.
Lately I’ve been realizing that I no longer believe in love. A girl smashed my heart and took a massive portion out of me. I feel like 40% of my entire being is missing. But here’s the thing: I don’t want it back.
I could recover. I could take the time to mend, move on. But I am okay with no longer believing in love. You can’t break my heart if I don’t.
I know love exists in many forms. I feel love for my family. For my friends. For every animal I encounter. But love in the “true, romantic, soulmate” sense? Nah. Not anymore.
You see, the most basic human instinct is to mate. Fortunately we are sentient beings that have the power to decide who we mate with… the problem is, we gotta find someone who also wants to mate with us. I’ve ‘mated’ with many humans. But do I love any of them? To an extent. Do they love me? Sure. Why not? But what happens if any of us decided to date? What would the point be? We’re just going to break up or end up miserable.
*sigh* maybe I’m bitter. Maybe I’m trapped in a negative mindset. Maybe someday another human will come along and my mind will change overnight or over time. But, honestly, I doubt it.
You see, I don’t expect to live much longer. That may be my depression talking, but I don’t have much worth in life now that I no longer believe in love. Yeah, I have my music. Yeah, lots of people reach out to me because I’m there for them, I listen, I give them words they take to heart and cherish. But without love? I don’t see life having much meaning. And if I don’t think I’ll live for long, why burden myself keeping another person happy?
This is good for me, though. I think. I now get to focus my time on myself. Music. Touring. Travel. Writing. Maybe I’ll find a new purpose, or maybe my original thought of music being my destiny will, in fact, prove itself to be my destiny. Or maybe I’ll take my mothers advice and write a book. Or maybe I’m fated to plunge off a cliff in a beautiful and mountainous region of North America? Who knows.
I have family and friends that read this blog, though I’m surprised any of them still do as I haven’t posted much while on the road with Stocksmile. To them: I promise I’m not suicidal. Just depressed. Full of thought. And encountering many sleepless nights.