The feeling( not a poem)

This is quite long, it doesnt rhyme and its full of contradictions. but i believe if you can manage to read the whole thing you will find it most....entertaining.

Its difficult to explain the feelings. There is a "feeling" in my chest. It feels empty, but at the very same time, heavy. It makes it hard to breathe. It makes me shake. I can not handle things like I should be able to. Love, of all my feelings, is the most difficult to deal with. I know I can love. I know I should love. And I do love. Sometimes. But sometimes I just don't feel it. With everyone. I try to "feel" but its just so hard sometimes. I mean, I wish I could love all the time. I wish I could feel anything other than "the feelings". They hurt. At least, I think they hurt.

Its difficult to tell sometimes, whether or not they hurt. Its difficult to tell because when I feel the feelings, I don't actually "feel" anything. All I feel, if it can even be called feeling at all, is a feeling of want and self pity. You can call me selfish. I don't mind because its true. When the feelings take over, all I think about is how I wish I could feel something else. How I feel bad about not feeling. And how I need to get better. I don't worry, I don't even care about what other people may be feeling. Call it cold. Call it heartless. Call it whatever you want. Because no matter what you call it. Its probably true.

Its strange. Sometimes, I don't feel anything. Except for the feelings of coarse. And sometimes, though I don't feel as if I feel anything, I want to cry. I need to cry. I can feel it coming and I try to stop. I always stop it. I haven't cried in years. I don't even remember what its like to cry. I know after wards I feel weak. I feel like less of a man. And although I know I shouldn't feel like that, it is inevitable. I hate crying. But I hate it even more when others cry.

Why do I hate it when other people cry. I don't care about them any other time. At least sometimes I don't. It hurts me to see them cry. Perhaps it takes such a large out pouring of emotion to trigger my inner human side. The part of my heart that still feels compassion and sympathy. Maybe its just that I can relate to how they are feeling. Maybe they feel the same as me. Even though I know they don't, I still wish I had someone to share bottled up sadness with.

I feel like I am consistently contradicting myself. I say sadness. I say I feel. While in reality, I only remember these feelings. So when I don't feel anything, I think back to when I had some emotion. Some feeling. And even though they hurt, even though they're painful memories, I cherish them. I cherish the memory of feeling. No matter how uncomfortable it may be.

When I'm not remembering or feeling sorry for myself, I have no connection to the world. Its like I'm in a daze. A far away place, where no one can reach me, where I can not be found. And where I don't want to be found. Amidst my feelings, or lack there of, in my secluded little world, I find comfort. Comfort in the fact that no matter what happens to me, no matter what happens in my life, I will not be dramatically affected.

Sometimes I hate that I don't care. Sometimes I hate the fact that I find comfort in such a miserable place. And yes. Numb is miserable. Even though you can't feel it at the time. I am a walking mass of contradictions as stated earlier. I want to feel so bad that I create a world of emotion that I know for fact to be false, but nonetheless believe it to be true. Its pathetic. I want it so bad, I lie to myself to make it real. And as long as I believe, it is real.

I have a difficult time explaining "the feelings". The empty heaviness on and in my chest. I suppose its pointless to try. So I can only hope that through this brief essay, contradictory as it may be, can help show the world what its like to "feel" nothing. To be essentially dead inside. What its like to be cold, heartless, selfish and worst of all.....alone.