You hear people ask all the time.
“How does someone let themselves get like that?”
I’ve ask this too. I’ve asked myself and maybe you’ve even asked yourself, “how did I get here?”
How did this happen?
Maybe the answer is far simpler than we think.
I think back about the remnants of this day. I think about the details of a day like this, which happened and took place 34 years ago.
And there was nothing like it . . .
And there will never be anything like this again.
Of course, I should add more to this preface. I should obviously state the facts and give background so that you know where I’m coming from.
And this? This is where I came from.
This is what it means to have a room or a place, like, say, the bedroom I had back when I was young.
This was my spot and my corner in the world.
This was my safe haven, even when life was unsafe. This was the only place I could go and be safe enough, even when my actions were set on defying gravity or the safety of living a normal life.
And sure.
Safe to say that when you didn’t know, you just didn’t know.
And that’s fine.
No, really. It’s fine to learn.
It’s fine to fall down once in a while or to land on your ass or on your face. I say this is good for the soul to know that above anything else, we are all human.
We all fail. We fall down.
No one wakes up with fresh breath.
No one walks around at their best all the time
We live and we learn and if we are lucky, we learn the secrets to important things, such as the secret to our own resilience. Or we find the secret to our endurance. And we need this so that no matter what happens, we find whatever it is we need to keep going, even if it seems impossible to take another step.
You can’t quit.
Quitting is not an option.
Right?
And everyone says the same thing.
Don’t do it.
Everyone warns the next one. But no one thinks that “this” will happen to them.
I know I thought that I could beat the odds.
But of course, I was wrong.
No one expects the falls or the breaks or the pain from the bad things. And sure, we all think we can “handle it.” We all think that we know better and whatever happens, we all thing we can “beat it,” in whichever case or whatever the “it” may be.
Continue readingThere is hope. I know there is.
I know that I am not where I want to be. At least, not yet. But I am closer than I was yesterday.
I know that going forward, at least I can say that yes, I am going forward.
At least, I am moving.
I am working.
And no one can take that away from me.
Move.
Do something.
Action creates reaction and motion creates emotion.
I have been told this . . .
I was told this a long, long time ago.
Move.
Go. Be. DO.
These words have meaning to me.
The thing is . . .
I don’t know.
And the real things I will never know.
I don’t know if my life would be easier or I would be happier if I were someone else.
I used to wonder who I would be if I grew up in a different house or what my family would be like if we lived in a different town.
I don’t know if I would have been happier.
I suppose I could say the same thing about my looks.
What if I was beautiful?
What if I was wanted or cheered for and desired?
I don’t know.
I think I’ll just let this entry roll without any thought or interference from the surface.
I’ll let this one come from the depths of me.
And so, here I go again.
I have things inside of me, brewing, and I know there is something on the way or there’s something up ahead.
I don’t know what it is.
But I know that the clock is turning and as sure as this is; I know that all things will be revealed.
Someday.
I always go back to the saying that goes, “If you don’t know, then you just don’t know.”
I’m sure you understand this, at least from your own perspective.
I love this, by the way,
The way no one else is here, except us.
I love that you and I can speak freely, at least here.
I love that I can close the door and share my things here, without worry or fear that somehow, my old truths will find their way back and the retaliation will be swift and merciless.
In fairness, I am just a kid.
I am that boy, I told you about.
I am that kid who wishes and wants and hopes that maybe (someday) I can arrive at your doorstep to see you answer the knock.
My eyes will open wide and my smile will be bigger than my face when I see what you’re wearing.
And I will hand you a corsage and weave my arm through yours, so we can finally have a dance, which I have been waiting lifetimes to have .
In the beginning,
there was light and the light was good.
In the beginning, it was the beginning
and you and I had yet to know
what was about to come.
I write this to you,
staggering my thoughts
so I can break them down
and hopefully,
you can understand where I am.
I do not want find myself where I was
again . . .
There is no space between now and then.
I know this both intellectually
and emotionally.
The physical distance between us
is only something
that discusses our proximity;
and yet, I am not closer
nor farther from you
and nor can I ever be distant
from you now or ever again
because I could never be far
from anyone who lives in my heart.
The Written Addiction 