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Night draws it's dark cloak across the sky earlier and earlier and the year draws close to it's end. What a year. The painful ordeals of a friend. The lose of my mother. The tenuous grip on life of a friends child. My own ill health. A roommate, and dear friend, gone to her fiancee. Starting again in a new location at work.



Yes. All these things and more. But here I am. Victorious over them all. Each battle fought and won or stalemated, but not lost.



And yet, how hollow those victories seem. I am in good health now, but $4,000 in debt. The insurance doesn't cover this, or that, or this. Well what the FUCK does it cover?



The loss of my mother is most painful. Three years battling cancer, taking chemo and other treatments. Sick every day of her life. I was saddened to see her so, yet happy that she was with us. The hours of conversation. The many losses to her at Trivial Pursuit, but no one else would play me as I tend to win. The kind word. The timely wisdom.



Yet I stood by her when she made her decision to end the treatments. Tired of being sick. Tired of being able to do so little for herself. I surrendered what I wanted, having her with me, for what I knew was right, her right to pass on and end the terrible life she now lived.



Noble sacrafice. Giving up what I desired for what was right.



How many noble sacrafices have I made? I can't remember them all. Only the most painful.



But here I am. My battles won. Yet, I feel like the soldier who has one the battle, but the war was lost. Somehow, at some point, somewhere around him, the war went against him and though he stands bloodied, but not beaten upon the field, his battle won, the war is over, and he's on the losing side.



Yes, I did what was right. I stood by my mother. Supported her decision. And what do I get in return. I lose her. My family, my brother and sisters, now won't talk to me. They wanted her to continue the treatments. How cruel. How wrong. How selfish. And yet they are my family. A family, now, who won't speak to me. Angry for having supported my mother.



My ill health, now back to normal, has cost me a great deal. A great deal that will take some time to pay off.



And I am alone. People call me friend, and I hold that title in high regard. It is a good and noble title, though I rarely feel worthy of it. And I honor and value that title, truely. Yet for all those who say I am a good man. I am nice. I am a good friend. Where is the one person who will say they love me? Who will be with me?



I think that I am to blame for my lonliness. Perhaps I expect too much. Perhaps I reach too high. Perhaps I am afraid to give my heart completely. Or perhaps I'm good enough to only be a friend.



The end of the years draws near. The holidays arrive. And here I sit. Alone. Wondering why. Why am I alone? Is it my fault as I believe it is?



Why is it that I could enter a field of battle, or a place of the enemy and turn the fear I felt into a tool that helped me survive, and yet fail so miserably at life in general?



Is it karma? If so, then what have I done so wrong to deserve this?



Is it fate? Then how have I angered the forces of fate to grant me this?



Thankgsgiving alone. Christmas alone. New Years alone.



All I ever wanted was someone to love. I had someone once. She's gone. Asleep forever. A sleeping beauty that no kiss can awaken.



I am told that there is someone for everyone. Was she the one? Have I lost my only true chance at love?



Why is it that we are allowed to win so many battles in our lives, only to lose the war?



I'm tired.



I want to sleep.



Yet even this is denied me, by the very code of honor by which I live.