The Religion of the Ring

There is a ring, and there are people inside it. You are inside it too.

I'm standing outside the ring and watching everyone inside the ring. I'm wondering whether its better to be in a ring or out of a ring, and I decide that I'm better off outside. The ring looks like a happy place to be at first - the people inside it feel a sense of camaraderie and belonging, and everyone feels as though everyone is a part of a large family.

But a ring has boundaries. If a person is inside a ring, he stays there. He feels emotionally tied to the ring, and physically, it becomes a burden to force a foot to step on ground outside the ring.

I'm not in the ring. I walk alone and that gives me the freedom to watch other people in other rings, and learn about them. I am an observer.

I used to want to be with someone in a ring. I was attracted to the matter-of-factness and straightforward ideas of this someone. Then I discovered that, possibly, this person, however perfect he seemed, is confined in a ring. I do not want to love a ringperson. He does not appreciate the freedom to roam.

He does not desire what I desire. I want travel, spice, romance, boldness and passion - I want big stories and big achievements. I want the kind of events which swell your chest up with all kinds of uncontainable emotions. I want to ride a rough journey and face a dazzling finale to it. I don't need to belong. I need experience.

To you

I wish I never met you. Because then I would not feel this way - everytime I see you in a chatroom and offline on MSN messenger, part of me feels like I'm used to it and I'm over it, and another, larger part of me feels like I've been stabbed repeatedly in the places it hurts most.

Little things hurt the most. The way you greet me, versus the way you greet someone else. Being online at the same time as you while not chatting with you, and watching you chat with other people. Thinking you're so beautiful and amazing and feeling like a small piece of smelly sock - and a stupid one at that.

I feel like I'm not the kind of person you want to talk to anymore - I feel like you're avoiding me and I absolutely hate it. I feel like a weak, desperate person in your presence - I don't feel intelligent, creative or talented; I feel like a wreck. I don't know what to do about it. I just want to stop thinking of you like this, I don't want to care about what you think of me.

I'm going to try my best to cut you out of my life - it just hurts too much. And deep down I know you don't care about me - you've never really shown you cared, and its painful to admit, but that is probably precisely what I was attracted to in the first place. There's something obviously very wrong with me.