No, I guess I don't really want to write all my thoughts down here right now. Mainly because it's been a long day and I haven't done much productive, so I should probably be doing something else right now.
It's always the little things that aren't really important and don't have a lot of purpose that I end up focussing on, though.
Ever get flustered at yourself for not being able to get the feeling into the words that you want to? You mean them, you feel them, but it doesn't show very well?
Ever get tired of being a disappointment to the people you love most?
I'm not trying to be melancholy; in fact, I don't feel melancholy at all right now. Been helping with supper—we're eating Anglesey Eggs, a Welsh dish, with Bakestone Cakes, another Welsh recipe. It's been overall a good day, however unproductive. I worked for 8 hours, slept for three, and talked to a princess for an hour, before getting supper together. Overall, it's been a great day—no stress, no worry, no tossing and turning on my bed too tired to sleep. I'm happy, I really am. But you probably can't feel it can you? Why is that? Not sure.
As for what I wrote above, about being a disappointment, well, I feel that way every time I disappoint. I don't really disappoint the people I don't know very well or care about; they don't have expectations and desires that I can fill. The people you do care about, well, they're the ones you can hurt most—even as they are the ones you can heal most. Being a disappointment, feeling like you're a failure, like you've let down the people you love with heart and soul—even worse is knowing you've disappointed God, but that's on another level, so I'll leave it be for the present—it's a heart-wrenching emotion. It hasn't depressed me or made me turn in on myself. But it sits there, like a scab, ugly and a cause of hurt to myself and others.
I could be more than I am; I will be more than I am. I wish I were already more than I am.