Lost

Sometimes I wonder if I'm living in the right world... A world filled with alcohol, promiscuity, hate, isolation, dejection and cynicism... Fortunately (or unfortunately), my life is free of the former three, but my own little world, the few people that matter enough to me, the oft-replaced woman I choose to shower with my affections, my work and classes, seems empty.
I wake up every morning bright and early with that sinking, empty feeling, trudge over to the bathroom, ponder over my life on the crapper, and then get on with the rest of my day, just as disheartening as the last.
Sometimes I wish I could fill it with a bit of it's former luster. Growing up, I traveled across the world after my dad the diplomat, saw and experienced things I could've perhaps done without. Sometimes I wish could have my childhood back, a childhood I never really came to terms with, forced to grow up by the mean, nasty world.
I live today on the threshold of adulthood, but I've seen and done things that most people shouldn't have even heard about. The accepted undergraduate life doesn't appeal to me, I just can't sit in a coffeehouse with a bunch of random folks I can barely stand for hours on end. The women around me are never good enough, never, mature enough, and the ones that are, have the perennial age gap on their minds. You see, I'm into older women, and I've always dated women up to six years older than me, and the only one younger than me I've been with is the reason they're all older.
How far would you go for love... I told myself that I'd never lose myself for anyone, and somewhere along that path, I got lost. I met a girl, she was hitched, I was hitched, but we got along great anyway. There was something fated, something uncanny, something, inexplicable. Everything about us was compatible, and we met under circumstances that made no sense. I was in a teetering month-long relationship, ready to end in a heartbeat, and she was in a shaky, but very, very long one. Within a month we were both single, and found ourselves indulging in harmless flirting and hours and hours and hours on the phone, getting to know each other, which moved on to frequent dining, lots of music shared, and frequent admissions of being extremely comfortable around me, so I continued to be open with her. We got closer and closer, and as these things go, I fell for her. I fell for this one who knew me inside out, who I couldn't hide a thing from, and I let her know. I knew she loved me too, but the fact that she was four years older than me stopped her from expressing that love. She cared too much about me to have to lose me at some later point, just in case her parents didn't approve, a risk she apparently wasn't willing to take. For more than a month, I'd been telling myself we'd only ever be friends, and suddenly, when I paid attention, I was in her arms. Somewhere, somehow, we wound up trying it out anyway, and I felt every touch, every kiss, every word, and loved her more. But she decided to pull back, insisted that she didn't love me the way I thought I knew she did, insisted that she couldn't be with me, wasn't ready yet, I meant too much, she just couldn't hurt me, not realizing that she'd just shattered me completely, all over again. This was something that another had done to me, and she was fully aware of it. I never made that connection, never told her how much it hurt me coming from her, since she meant so much more to me than anyone else ever did, but hurt I did.
I loved her more than I'd ever loved before, completely and unconditionally, expected nothing from her in return, was willing to do anything for her, to the point of seeing her with someone else, as long as she was happy. I stopped even noticing other women on the street, stopped spending time with any who were even slightly interested in me, because they all just annoyed me, made me feel like I was being held back from her. I tried to bring her back to me, tried to return to that old state, where everything was just perfect, before we found the love, maybe so we could find it again, but I've made mistake after mistake, each an attempt to appreciate her, but each tanking as badly as anything could. I fear I'm sending her away from me. Just recently I made the biggest mistake. Trying to fix that, I then stepped back completely until she was ready for me, and I gave her all the space she could need.
I have no regrets, I live by that rule. I don't regret what happened, and I know that won't stop me for living the way I do. I won't stop loving her, and I won't stop giving, it's all I know how to do. I haven't felt her touch for over two weeks, and I haven't spoken to her at any length in about as long. I miss her, I yearn for her, I continue to love her, but I feel like I've invested too much, lost too much of myself to live without her.