I feel lost.
I feel as though I lost my home on the web and no longer know where I belong. I wrote. For a decade I wrote there. Then I wrote here. Then I did not write. Not anywhere. My voice feels smashed up, pent up, boxed in. It's making me crazy.

Or maybe, the truth is--I just am crazy. I've explored that avenue enough to beat hundreds of dead horses. I no longer really care. Crazy? Sane? If you're alive I believe it's all nuances of the same sentiment.

My head and my heart are both over full and there's no more room for it all inside there.
I just no longer know where to let it spill.

This morning I woke from a dream of crazy, bloody imagery but in the midst of all the insanity there was a connection. One fingertip drawn across a smooth, cool cheek. And a look. I felt him (and by this I mean the essence of who he is and was--the future. The past, they all reside there in that space) and it was this moment that stopped time within the dream and this moment that continues to make me feel all soft and bruised inside.

I feel squishy and sad and filled with the softest hint of yearning.

It is painful. A lot of things are painful these days. Loving seems to be the worst.