Sister by soul, tell me about life

Thanksgiving over. A rough weekend, too much reality escaping substances, behind me. Broken promises on catching up. I don't have the energy always, have to do other things, have to be able to breathe, must change scenery, must change myself. (All the dinners, lunches, demand an eversmiling, endlessly open, forward me, a me that isn't, a me that cannot be).

Lots to do, articles to read, analyses to commit to. Still I choose to write you, have to find a outlet for the strange anxiety I sometimes get here. It's not longing, but en overarching feeling of missing out of something (that there's a better life out there for me, but I'm too lost to find it). You know those wonderful things that are promised of life? Always on the run, constantly fleeing, incessantly this restless aspiration toward something else, someone else... I don't know, it's not sadness, don't read it that way, I just want you to read me (I know it's wrong of me, ruthless of always demanding your attention, demanding your availability, know that it's wrong and all that, hate to feel that I use you - do I?).

And you know, I miss X so much. Don't know what to do with the feeling, or if I even want to get rid of it. I see children, see happy families and happy futures. Damn. And still I live this parallell life - do I really want to? Do I want this? I don't get me. I have to try something new, experience something else, anything. Tired of being incomplete, inadequate, insufficient. Should I continue like this? Please tell me, tell me (anything).