Tags
Busy, Changes, Future, Joy, Old Writing
I was born of this time and I know only this time. Twenty-two years I have lived. Twenty-two years I have grown. I am a child in this time. There was a time, I know only from media, when, at twenty-two years, I would have been a woman. Possibly a wife and mother. I am happy that I have grown in this time, when I don’t need to lock myself into a life I know, only because of this time, is not the life suited for me. But this life, this time, and this world, I believe, are not real. The physical is tainted. What is truth to most has never been my truth. My world is coloured by my dreams. And my dreams, while set in this world, are of a completely different reality. I spend more time in my dreams than many would say is healthy. Even while awake, I remember my dreams. I study them. I immerse myself within my thoughts, within my dreams. They begin to show themselves, manifesting in what everyone else calls reality. Every moment I am awake, my mind questions what is real and what is only in my head. When I dream, some things that seem too normal or too repetitive cause me to realize that I am dreaming. Some things that feel too frightening lead me to saying, within my dream, “I have to wake up.” But then, some dreams that are full of fantasy…even some that lead me to wake up in tears or short of breath…I feel as if I could stay in them forever. Even when I know they’re not real, I feel like I belong. I dream of vampires and mermaids and creatures that seem only to come from the depths of my mind, and yet still, they feel more right.
I feel stagnant. I feel lost. I feel angry. People tell me what I need. I don’t need you to tell me what you think I need. If I don’t ask. But, oddly, when I ask, no one is there to listen but the people I have never asked. Odd, indeed. I had nowhere to go one night. It was 3 in the morning, I wasn’t alone, and didn’t want to wake my Beloved. It didn’t bother me that no one I’d tried to contact was available…It was 3am and I only wanted to hang out. But, it bothered me that, if I had a serious need…there was no one I could think to call. There is no one who I could cry, truly expose my pain, to. There have been those who have tried, but the problem is mine. I cannot truly be open, no matter how much I have wanted to. I have wanted to show you. I have wanted to cry and be held by you. I’ve wanted you to see me fall apart, and you hardly even notice me. There are people who offer me what I want only from you. What you don’t deserve from me, they don’t require. Your name, I whisper. When said louder, it is forced and it hurts me. I’ve said his name many times and louder. His name is easy, though his harm was worse.
I question myself. I think thoughts on top of each other. I think that everyone thinks the way I do, and then I think, no…I’m not right. And, again, I think that everyone probably thinks they aren’t right and I’m just overreacting. But it’s always there…this overwhelming fear. This desire find out what’s in my head. What’s in my body. How many people consider their own destruction on a daily basis? How many see fire, see water, see danger and think to go into it until they cannot go further? And the only reason I don’t is because I know how scary it is to think of losing someone I love and I could NEVER do that to my family. But I have tried. And everyday I see new ways. And everyday, no matter how happy I am, I fear that something will cause me to go. I fear that someday, I won’t be able to control myself. And even with this, I love the ones I love. I love myself, most of the time. That’s why I’m so frightened. But part of me thinks, there’s no other way.
This world is beautiful…so beautiful. And then there are people like me…people who thrive on corruption. I love to watch people…I love to listen to and experience nature. I love it all, even when it destroys itself…But, I don’t feel apart of it. I haven’t felt apart of this world for years. I sit and try to remember a time when I was sure that there was no bad in the world, a time when I thought that someday things would be okay. I remember that it was truly a belief and not just a fantasy. I was a “Christian” once…but that caused more harm than any good for me. I still have my ideologies, but I am wiser. I am so much dumber. It’s true, when they say “ignorance is bliss.” And whoever said it’s better to have known something, never knew what I knew. They never saw what I’ve seen. And I smile too much.
I never plan to get married. I never plan to fall in love again. I plan to travel… I plan to disappear. I want to see this world. I want to watch it, as I’ve always done. I want to roam and know new things and people. I want to become someone. Someone who knows who she is and who isn’t on the brink of disintegrating on a regular basis. And I am. I’m on that brink. And no matter how many times I tell someone, no one hears me. Even now, I know nothing will change. Even now, I know I will not change.
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Two years have passed. I have changed. And I am so very happy.
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