Knots and hiding

I imagine after all this time I've spent thinking, I'd have figured it out by now. Worked the infinite knots into separate lines of logic. But all I've untangled is my fears and failures, and it seems the farther in I go, the more of them I find. I remember from grade four when my teacher was reading us that book about the boy who ran away. In his comfortingly strong voice, he'd said, "And he sat there until every last knot was untangled, braving the winds from the top of the building." I remember picturing myself up there, picking the string like meat on bones, pulling and unwinding until it lay before me, obvious and straight and normal.
The reality I face now is a lot like those winds, fraying my sanity in much the same way the wind would toss your hair. It's unwinding my logic while I work never-ending hours to pull it all together. Maybe the knots are the problem: while I think untangling them will be the very answer I'm searching endlessly for, maybe (just maybe though, because I really can't be sure at all), the knots are what I've tied together all ready, and by untangling them, I'm only making a bigger mess of everything.
What I have figured out is that reality is winding me up until the point where the string snaps, or I go flying. That my loved ones (or twos, or threes) are only being further destroyed because of me, and I'm not helping at all.
I think I have had the answers from the very start. Somewhere that is nowhere, that would hold me ever dearly. A cabin in the woods with all the loneliness I want. That's the only reality that will not hurt, and my instincts to prepare for it have been the only thing I will ever do right.
If I ever find someone who could love me enough to hide out in the cold with me, then I will be happy. Make no mistake; that is something I've been searching endlessly for too. Just...something I never honestly believed I would find.