sitting on my carpet

I'm sitting on my carpet. 

They cleaned them this week and I moved the furniture out of the way and some of it's still in the kitchen so I'm sitting on the carpet and the room feels big and vacant and my cat is sitting on the carpet too. 

The lights are off but the sun is shining outside the open window and the sky is a vibrant blue and the leaves are rustling in the trees and there's life outside. 

But I'm inside and I'm sitting on the carpet. 

I'm sad and kind of hollow and my heart is heavy and I feel isolated and I know tomorrow won't be as hard because yesterday was actually easier but right now I'm sad and I'm sitting on the carpet. 

And everyone thinks they understand and they try to help but their platitudes feel vacant and ingenuine even though I know they don't mean them to.

There's a rainbow after the storm and there are happier times ahead and a window is opening as this door has been slammed in my face but I don't care about the rainbow I exist right now and right now I'm sitting on the carpet. 

And they don't know and they don't understand because just because you read some book about relationships doesn't mean you understand the way his eyes looked as he spoke to me. 

And just because you think you've figured life out because you're not single you have a partner you know love you know it's out there doesn't mean you don't lie awake when no one is watching and look at him sleeping and secretly wish you were somewhere else. 

No, no one actually understands, they think they do and maybe they try to but they are limited from their own life experiences and jaded scope so no one knows but me what this is this ache this feeling this pain.

And right now I'm sitting on the carpet. 

This too will pass and there's plenty of fish in the sea and time will tell and who knows what the future brings but right now I'm sitting on the carpet. 

Right now I don't know what to do and I'm lonely but I don't want to be around anyone because it's more lonely to be around people who think they know the answers than it is to actually just be alone because at least alone I can have my thoughts and no one is judging me because my thoughts are mine and I don't think they're wrong I think they're honest. 

My friend rocks her baby and she says I think I know what's best because I spend 24/7 with him and why don't people trust that I know what my baby needs?

And I think I know what's best I spend 24/7 with my heart and why don't people trust that I know what I need?

So right now I'm sitting on the carpet. 

There's nothing I can do and my heart is so heavy and I wish there was a way I could bottle this light I could pour this love into a vial and deliver it to him so he could drink it and all would dissolve into his bloodstream and work its way to his heart and give him strength and make him smile and I wouldn't even have to see or hear I'd just know. 

Because I made him smile, he was crying and he said you made me laugh, because sometimes we're good for each other, broken people and hopeful people, and sometimes people cross paths with you because they have to and everyone hears me but no one really listens. 

So I'm sitting on the carpet and I'm not sure what to do but I know my heart is smart. 

I'm not a fool I have intuition and I knew something was wrong and it was and I knew to go there and I got the truth and sometimes I wish I didn't share my heart with the world because it thinks it knows what's best and no one believes I know my heart better than them. 

And I don't want to tell you what happened I know what happened and I know why he had to go inside and I'm tired and I wish there was someone else who truly did understand. 

But we don't because we're not the same and maybe that's the point and maybe that's partly why I write. 

And if I could never write if something happened that forbade me from writing that ceased my creative outlet and my processing and the joy that stems from stringing words together everyone would say find a way write anyway fight the circumstances that hold back the cry of your heart. 

Pursue your artistic dreams. 

Defy the odds that are stacked against you. 

So how come when I love and life circumstances try and prevent that cry in my heart everyone simply looks me in the eyes and tells me I'm wrong?

How can one cry of my heart be right?

And another so strongly be wrong?

I'm sitting on my carpet with the lights out and my cat now sleeping and I'm thinking they're wrong. 

Because my heart has always known when to listen.