I hate the feeling of being lost in pursuit of nothing.

You go round and round in circles, constantly seeking something that isn't there, but you feel empty without it.  Restless hours, I've spent, lying awake at night wondering just what it is that's missing, that somehow leaves my life in pieces and incapable of being intact, but it isn't there.  Perhaps spending more time with the ones I love or doing the things which I so love to do, but no; these are products of that unattainable thing.  There is something out there that, once found, will suddenly put priorities right and make you feel full in everything that you do.  Once or twice I've grasped it and experienced that utter bliss, that feeling that everything is whole again, but never does it linger.  It stays long enough to entice you and then whisks itself away.  It is the unattainable, the unrequited.  It is what we all long for but are forever incapable of accepting.  It is peace and happiness at its finest and most elated.  It is cruel to those of us who need it most.

This thing, this feeling, is freedom.