Soul's Yearning

The memories of the past beckon yet again. The restlessness that remains firmly within my control has reawakened. It's stronger today. It's causing the normally happy-go-lucky personality on the surface which is me to be silenced. There is anxiousness, a searching which defies explanation. Those who know me know that there resides a deep sadness within me.

I'm the girl who everyone clamors to spend time with, yet I belong nowhere. I shy away from attention instinctually and yet my outer self is perfectly at home amongst a roomful of strangers. I'm a farce, a mockery, for I am lying to the most important person...me.

I close my eyes and hear his deep voice; he’s entered our home and is calling for our children and I. His voice even from the back of the house has a deep smile in it, for he’s happy, he’s home. I open my eyes…there is no one there. There is no smiling voice; it was like the rest of my life, a mirage.

Again my eyes close and unbidden comes the wailing of a child. An infant and my yearning know no bounds. I long from deep within my soul for that child …the one whose wails can only be quieted by his mothers soothing voice. I want that child the ones whose body my arms were chiseled to cradle.

I envision spending hours in front of a fire listening to my families stories of what occurred over their individual days. I blink and know before my eyes are even fully opened that I have no one to focus that attention upon.

An extrovert … internally I'm a whirring of emotions, thoughts, questions, concerns and a plethora of facts collected over a lifetime that seems wasted.

Tears come easily for I am deeply unhappy.

The knowledge that by society’s standards I am a productive member of society is meaning less and less to me daily. I've accomplished a lot by society’s measurements and yet I feel like a complete failure. I'm successfully able to play whatever games life hands me and yet I long for a return to simplicity. A normalcy which is so elusive that currently I feel the continued search for it is an exercise in futility.

I close my eyes yet again in hopes that I can recapture that mythical life…the one which beckons me. My soul is so utterly restless that no matter how hard I try, I cannot recapture that elusive dream for reality is the only constant in my life.

And so I enter reality, I open my eyes and I put my fingers to work.

The cursor incessantly blinks behind the phrase: “Where do I belong?”

Dare I press enter?