I do not waste my time and tempt fate or dare the odds of my unforeseen destiny anymore.
At least, not like I used to.
I am too far gone now. I am far from the person I was and growing farther from the distant shadows that used to remind me of what took place on 3rd Avenue and 54th Street.
I am grateful for this, however, so please understand that despite my past and my mistakes; I am aware of who I am now and in the end, awareness is the key which can open the door to a brand new life.
Or, at least, so I hope.
Nothing grew too wild and nothing changed and at the same time, I am nothing like the younger version of myself, which was a more timid version in many ways. I agree.
And yet, I am far braver now and too much of a coward to defy myself and step away from the downward lines that fall on my chart, which depict direction of my mental health.
Heartache and heartbreak are enough to remind me that yes; people can and often do die from a broken heart.
it’s true.
I am neither well nor unwell or alive or dead. No, I can simplify this by saying that I am here in my own place near Purgatory.
I am not so in-between though.
I am supposedly growing and moving, the same as the upper part of our hemisphere is growing and moving in a new direction and tilting away from the sun.
It is only another season, I say.
Winter, spring, summer, fall.
All of this and you and I are moving in cycles.
This moment is just another trip through the autumn months and soon, the winter will make the trees naked. The cold will remind me of my need and my thirst for restitution will be more like a bleeding ulcer in the stomach of my interpersonal soul.
I use big words now.
I know.
I try too hard, one could argue.
But I disagree.
I am only looking to flower the world and make the ugly truths have some kind of approach which is far more appealing than, say, the ugly fact that being alone is lonely and loneliness is enough to make one crazy.
Loneliness is enough to trick the mind into believing that more than anything; I have failed myself and worse, I have failed you as well.
I never wanted this –
I feel the need to get back to the beginning again. I feel the need to find my inspiration so that I can find the courage to wake up and go elsewhere.
I could leave now, yes. I know.
But too many parts of me are stuck in the roots of a tree that no longer grows here.
I have this need which is intimate too, of course.
But more, I have this need for a connection, which is more than sexual and more than physical and more than anything; the needs I have are needed more than anything else I have ever experienced in my life.
I want this.
Or wait, no
I need this.
I need this more now because the coward in me realizes that I have never dared to try or dared this much that I brave the fears and regardless of the rejection; I have never stepped forward and said, no matter what you think or feel about me . . .
I love you with everything I have.
Pride and fear and ego and the porcelain gestures of my false bravado make me weaker now and far too scared to stand up and be true.
But here I am anyway, standing on broken ground with broken bones and still; at least I stand here before trying to stand anyplace else.
Why do I keep this up?
What other choices do I have?
Should I quit?
Should I accept my losses and go away?
I heard someone respond to a question about loving someone who they could not have. They were asked, “Why bother?” and their answer was “Why bother living if you know you’re going to die?”
I get that . . .
So . . .
This is why I show up
Here
Every day
by any means necessary
no matter what
