Hearing Harry

Hearing Harry

Although these are my words, I have only collected them along with the feelings and lessons learned over my time here on earth and arranged them into the story below. This IS NOT the story of me. It is rather, a melting of many people, including a friend named Harry. This is their combined cry for help, again NOT MINE even though it is written as if it is. Please accept my apologies in advance should you find yourself buried within the verbiage below.
After five years of not dealing with this subject I know its now time.
Dedicated to Harry
Sometimes, when the loneliness grows like moss on a boulder, and I wander through these empty late night halls I sense a profound, almost eternal incompleteness inside. It’s as if I live, grasping at the edges of passion, seeking truth for more than a fleeting moment, always coming away with only strands of reality in my dirty hands. Longing for something that eludes me, as if attempting to mix water and oil, no one has ever completed me fully in the ways etched upon my heart by the dreams and hopes within. The pain, feeding upon the loneliness turns to despair and together they have calcified the portals to my heart. Sealed tightly against most melting factors, it simply beats, without chance to again feel. The dark nothingness becomes stronger day after day, consuming my ability to cover the raw ending of nerves left exposed by the cruelty that is sometimes called life. And then, it happens. No longer able to pretend that I am in control I stumble on something that masks itself as peace, hiding among the sheep, clothed as comfort it calls to me, and I step towards it. Like the first ray of sun after the storm it is beautiful, but the smell reeks of death, yet it goes undetected inside my nostrils. I reach for it, and find that I have been deceived, that the line I stand across is final and unending, it leads away from life as well as the wonder it had all along. I had been blind to it while in it, now the images of flowers, and summer days build and I know I have made a fatal mistake. I have rushed head on into deaths arms, and I am sorry.
I wish I had known this then, when he did reach out to me. I miss you buddy.