It’s truly astounding how knocking on death’s door makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.
This is the worst part for me. The uncontrollable, racing thoughts. It’s never good things that race through my head, like “Damn, I’m a badass”. It’s really horrible stuff that makes me feel like an awkward, kid on the first day at a new school. There’s so much information floating around and there’s no where to put it all. You grasp on to pieces to a puzzle without any guidance of how to put it together.
I’ll never be free. Everyone I love will turn their back on me. I never left. I never left. I never left. Inevitable doom. Caged birds still sing because they have a song. Sing, damnit.I miss my Mom. Betrayal. Even by mother. I’m always trying to withstand, be the stronghold. I have encountered many storms (circumstances) that have caused me to lean, but I did not fall. I even self-corrected the lean from where I was, with what I had. Is that instability? Or is it resilience? It isn’t a flaw. Or is it?
Is that conflicted perspective?
Or insanity? On who’s part?
Yes, it’s raining fucking puzzle pieces in my head and instead of trying to keep up or hoping a good soul could lend a hand or encouraging word to help me start sifting through, I surrender. I let the pieces fall where they will.
This is the part where I go quiet and observe …
“I loved you. I lost you; and I advise you: Twas better than to never having had loved at all. But now with more years, with more time…more perspective, I see things in a slightly new way, so here is my advice, updated and recalled:
It’s better to have love and lost, surely, but try never to lose it at all.”
~ William, This is Us