A Drop in the Ocean

I’m not looking for attention or answers; just a place to write out my feelings and let them exist as long as some hard drive in some server somewhere is around.  When that rusts, so will these thoughts.  All of us are drops in an ocean of souls.  We mix in with the rest.  If some are lost, who will be there to remember them?  Soon everyone we ever loved or who ever loved us will be gone and there will be no record of our existence.  Headstones will crumble, earth will shift, decay and entropy will prevail.  We are nothing.

In the last several years, I watched my father die of cancer, still clinging to his faith that could not bring him any comfort.  And so my faith died with his.  I went through reparative therapy for homosexuality; when years of therapy failed and tens of thousands of dollars were spent, I came out and have had one pointless “relationship” after another.  My heart had been sealed for so long that when, in my last relationship, I felt terribly vulnerable and expressed feelings of insignificance, I was told that there was too much drama and “I don’t need this right now”.  Another selfish, hurtful voice in an ocean of them.  No grace.  No mercy.  No understanding.  Perhaps I feel this way because I was sexually abused and I felt like I was his pride and joy; only to find out later in life that I was one of dozens, scores of boys who were told the same thing.  I was nothing special to him.  It makes no sense, and yet it is.  And so it continues in my adult life.  I am a disappointment to my family and, if my father were alive, to him as well.

I take up space.  That is my purpose in life.  That is the hallmark of my existence: I am a consumer.  What little I can give back falls into the arms of others who are taking up space.  I may live in the first world, but I am no different than the thousands upon thousands of children in third-world countries who die of starvation every day.  We are all forgotten.  Singular drops in an ocean of emptiness.

If there is a point to all this, I would gladly welcome the explanation.  At some point, no medication, no drug, no drink, no sexual experience, no gentle word, no kiss, no embrace can heal what has been broken.