It’s not working,
Trying to mean something and communicate at the same time.
Meaning is a species of being.
Communicating is a species of belonging.
For most of life, being and belonging vie and jostle,
Like two twins
Who cannot get along,
But get along anyway because they are the same.
Later in life, being and belonging sometimes separate,
Especially for those born with a weak sense of belonging.
The need to be grows stronger than the need to belong
And meets its new twin, the need not to be.
You miss the old twin
But nonetheless long for him to be gone
Because of all the pain you have caused him
And he has caused you.
One night you sit in a nice restaurant
And the socializers turn to wisps
You can barely see or hear.
You have seen and heard it all before.
Belonging has ceased at last to matter at all.