I sit and I stare blindly at the wall. There is nothing there, it’s just a wall. Beyond it, there is something, but I can’t see it. All I can see is a white, flat and bland wall.
I hate that fucking wall. I’m not sure why, but I do. I should love it. Right now, it is the only thing paying any attention to me. But I hate it. I fucking hate that wall.
I’m sick of fighting just to be me. I’m sick of feeling like me isn’t good enough for anything. I’m sick of dying a little each minute of each day. I just want to be loved for who I am. Am I that bad that I don’t deserve it? Do the more human parts of me mean more to the world than those parts that are beautiful? Why is it that my humanity shines brighter than my Divinity? Why is that all you can see? What am I doing wrong here?
Why can’t you see me? Why is it all so much more important to you? We love those who leave this place, who finally find freedom from all of this bullshit. They become important as they lie in a box. They become good enough then. Suddenly, even if it is for a brief moment, they matter. The shell of form lies there feeling nothing while those who suddenly love it, miss it, want it and cry for it feel what they should have felt all along. It’s all momentary, they will forget the dead quickly just as they forgot the living. That rotting body will once again become anonymous to all except the things that eat away at it. It’s a tragic irony; in his demise the man can become a slave to the things that eat away at him just as when he walked the Earth.
I love so much, but can’t seem to show it in a way that is good enough. I cry real tears that seem to evaporate before they hit the ground. I can’t get it right. All I can do is pretend that I am. I relive the countless memories of not being good enough, of failing, of hating myself for just being me. Love me motherfucker, please, because I love you. I do. I want to. I want to hold you. I want to you to laugh and dance and love. I want you to hold me. I want you to press on those spots that hurt so they can heal. I want to feel my head finally release into your hands and know that those hands will catch me.
I don’t want this. I don’t want everything else to matter but me. I want to heal this and move on. I want to be part of the swirl of activity in your morning. I don’t want those truths I send to you to be ignored while everything else becomes important. I want to matter, to know that I am in your thoughts and your heart and to feel it because I hate this wall. It’s cold. It’s bland. It makes me feel lonely.
I make my own bed. I have to lie in it. Why do I do these things? Why can’t I hear anything? Why am I deaf to the song I want to hear so loudly in my heart? Why is despair the only thing I can feel? Fuck. At least I can feel something. It’s the numbness I fear more than anything. When that comes I just don’t know what to do. Some call that “moodiness”. It’s truly numbness. I can’t feel anything in those moments. I just want to leave. I don’t want to be here anymore.
I run from the numbness. I hide from it. Because I fear it. Right now the tightness in my gut and the sadness in my heart are much better than the numbness. Feeling something is always better than feeling nothing at all. At least I know I am still alive. I do, in those moments, often hope the only feeling that will return is the way I feel when I am next to you. It never does because I’m not good enough to have that feeling be real in your absence. I question my Soul for wanting to have this experience. I question myself for allowing it. I question living because it doesn’t really feel alive at all.
I’m done hurting. I need to be the real me, the me that loves beyond question and trusts beyond limits. I need to stop hearing this shit in my head and knowing that how I feel when you are sitting next to me is the real feeling my Soul wants to know. I’ve felt the sadness and ran from the numbness for far too long. It needs to end.
In this year where nothing is the same now then when it started, I am at my most important crossroads. Here is where I live or die, where I walk into the light or succumb to the numbness. What do I want here? What do I truly want? Do I want to be a slave to a past I don’t truly understand or know? Do I want to be like every star in the sky and shine for the world to see? Each and every step I have taken in this fucking experience has led me to this cliff. I have to jump, there is no choice. Turning back is not an option as the dogs circle and the prepare to attack. No, I have to jump, so now as I leap from it I must decide either to plummet to the Earth or to fly. Yes, I know the choice is mine.
My legs are shaking and my fingers can barely get the words out of me fast enough. Now is the time. Right now.