It's Time.

     It's time to put away childish ideals and fantasies, time to stop trying to force reality to conform to imagination, time to end my vain attempts to turn fiction into fact. I am who I am, and I guess I'm just not good enough for you or anyone else. I'm tired of this repetitive cycle of hopes which have slowly, cautiously risen -- only to fall and shatter in an instant. Perhaps I should accept my lot in life: some of us weren't meant to walk through this life surrounded by friends or accompanied by a soulmate -- some of us were meant to walk quietly and in solitude. If God didn't love the unlovable as He does, well I guess I wouldn't have bothered to stick around. I suppose that "black dog" would have left me slowly bleeding out the very last of my will to live, had not Jesus Christ driven him away and cared for my internal wounds. But there are scars, and sometimes I hear that dark hound howling in the night...