Close your eyes.

Blue skies are my lullabies.
Rainbows the silver lining in my thunderstorm world.
Lightning-shattered dreaming.
Tell me I’ll wake up.
Tell me it’s not real.
Tell me my fragility is a misconception, a slip of perception, I’ve no imperfection, no flaw.
Lie to me, so simply, do it gracefully, mercy mercy me.
Words reaching out to some understanding, hidden away by the secrecy of a webpage, what do I want to say?
God, I’m human.
The blood running through my veins is contained only by skin, the heart pumping it will stop when it is destined, the thoughts in my mind will come and go until I am no more.
Tell me that’s not scary.
Give me reason to believe that the entirety of existence is beautiful. It is. I know it is.
But convince me. I want to know that I’m living. I want to know that there’s some method to madness, some resolution to the confusion.
I’m not seeking an end, but a solution. I don’t want to quit, but a new beginning. I want to know.
How many people are feeling lonely tonight? How many are contemplating their life? How many are trying to find the will to live? Trying to find someone to help them, some reason to continue…the things you’d think are rare aren’t so rare after all.
How many are suffering? How many crying? How many need someone like me, like you? Such a simple action, just to reach out and say don’t worry. I’m a stranger, but I know what you’re feeling. We’re not all that different, really. All need to feel important, to feel wanted and loved and worthy. We all have our doubts and our fears, we’re all imperfect. We’re going to be okay though, you know? I’ll tell you.
There are better days coming for us. Days that hold sunshine and smiles. Days where we don’t doubt life, or fear death, or wonder how we can hurt so many and be hurt by so many. I know you’re feeling blue, but breathe. I know you’re feeling lost, but believe. Fight yourself, fight your enemies, fight your friends, fight the world, do what you can with what you have. You can live. You can be. You can aspire and seek and dream.
And you can cry. You can hurt. You can feel how you feel, because that’s what’s real. But don’t let that define you. Know who you are and who you want to be. Try to understand why you do what you do and feel how you feel. Try to better yourself. Try to help others. Try to let them see that it’s okay. It’s okay to be afraid. To feel low and wretched and wrong. You’re entitled. I’m entitled. We’re entitled. But don’t forget that you’re better than that. We’re better than our weakness. We’re better than our flaws. We’re better than we are. Keep improving. Let yourself cry, but don’t forget to smile. Lash out, but always apologize. Don’t lose sight of what matters in life. Take a step back. Relax. We’re gonna be okay. I promise you, there’s some good in every bad and some bad in every good. You just have to be able to ignore it during good times, and maximize it in bad. And it’s not easy. It’s a lifelong practice, and you still won’t get it right. But we aren’t supposed to get everything right. We’re human, you and I. We’re supposed to mess up. It’ll suck. It’ll hurt. Yourself and others. But, it’ll pass. It always passes.
So the nightmares are waking me from sleep, and I can’t find a way to convince my eyes to close.
I’m shaking and alone in the darkest way and time, I’m not even sure that I can see my own light.
But, some nights you can’t see the stars, or the moon. They’re there. Always and forever, shining clearly somewhere, for someone else to see.
I’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.
Convince me that the world is going to keep on turning, that the gravity is going to keep my feet on the ground, that the sun will rise and set and remind me that there are things bigger than myself or you or anyone else in play. Call it chance or circumstance, call it God or science or something undecided. There’s no arguing.
We aren’t the only thing going on this planet. There’s more than our existence. There’s more than our lives.
So, we can get downhearted and we can feel what we feel. But we need to remember that there’s more than us. There’s more than me and you. And that’s why we’re going to be okay. Because when push comes to shove, we don’t matter all that much anyway.

Close your eyes.

I’m lost inside and it’s finally starting to show, and I know you know.

Feel.
We’re feeling beings.
It’s what we do.
We feel, we feel, we feel. We try to explain our feelings. Try to express ourselves.
But what, then, when there’s no expression? No explanation? Just the overwhelming emotion.
And you’re drowning in life, because all there is around you is what you feel.
Feel.
Feel.
There’s no escaping the feelings.
No escaping the nature of our human form, we feel. We can hate it as much as we want, deny it until we’re dead, but we feel.
That’s how life is.
And right now, I’m feeling. I’m feeling so hard, and it’s overpowering every other aspect of me. Because I’ve never felt so much, and never felt so enclosed. There’s no outlet for the feeling I can’t describe, no way to put forth the emotions I can’t escape.
So I feel.
And I know you feel too.
Because I can feel you. I can feel this. I can feel the desperation, the duress of a test that we weren’t prepared for. I know. You’re not alone, but you feel it. I’m right here, but I’m nowhere near. Because I can’t be who I want to be, who you need, who I’ve spent so much time trying to become. I can’t even be myself, with all the feelings overpowering my being.
So what is it then? What is this chaos-stricken insanity that we so willingly feed with emotion?
And when will it end?

I’m lost inside and it’s finally starting to show, and I know you know.

Gasp.

Stomach heaving, contorting the body in wicked memory
Jumping forward, trying to lunge from my being the pain it is feeling
They say we have yet to master time travel, but they couldn’t be more wrong
Step into my mind and access the portal to all of the yesterdays, still trying to get away
I want to make a stand, to run far from your hand, to escape the clutch of–no, no more
My feet stick to the wet cement of a tormented mind and I, I cry
I can’t control the ragged breaths that escape my lungs
I’ve lost sight of present and future as the past overtakes time
Suspended in non-existence, dangling from the web of before
Holding my insides in as I’m g-g-gasping on the floor.

Gasp.

I’m lost.
I’ve tried to find resolution, searched for paths that take me somewhere new, but I always end up right back at square one.
I care too much. I worry too much. I love too much. And the excess of these things is what will be the end of me.
I never though there could be too much compassion, but such a thing exists. It’s when you care so much for others that you consistently put them above yourself.
It doesn’t work out. Because people are going to hurt you, even if they don’t mean to. And all you really have is you. You’ll get close to people, and I guarantee it’ll end in pain. Because when you care about others then you’re setting yourself up for failure. They are going to come across obstacles that you can’t help them face, they’re going to have problems that you can’t fix, and that helplessness is pure insanity.
And so I here I stand. Overcome by emotion of my complete and absolute inability to fix anything. My life has become a whirlwind of chaos and I’m holding tight until the winds settle down. Because I can’t stop mother nature, and I can’t change these things that aren’t in my control.
And I’m alone. I’m alone in accepting that I can’t do anything, I’m alone in forcing myself to sit idly and watch, I’m alone in keeping everything from falling apart. These are things that people can’t help me with. These are things that, no matter how much they suck, I have to do absolutely and entirely alone.
I’m lost.
But being lost, it’s a part of life.
It’s one of those things that you have to go through, multiple times.
I’ll find my way.

A visit.

You were strong, once.
An important part of my life, of others’ lives.
Your image dissipated and dissolved into the monster that I came to regard you as.
I hated you, I hated you, I hated you I hated you I hated you.
I was wrong. I don’t know how wrong, I don’t know where you end and the illness begins, but I was wrong.
I’ll never get these images out of my head, and I won’t go back, but I’m glad I did.
I saw in your eyes more understanding than I would wish upon you, I saw the knowledge that you aren’t you, but somewhere in there you still fight for some power in your life. I saw the fear and the pain, the confusion and the clarity, the life and the death all struggling for some room in your fragile frame, your weakened eyes, your deteriorating mind.
You cried, and my heart shattered. You spoke, and my being shook. You laughed, and my mind staggered.
I was scared of you, starting out. Scared of all that ravaged your existence, the parts of you that couldn’t possibly be you. I was afraid to look at you, to smile at you, to comfort you.
We walked, and walked, and walked. We walked with my father, we walked just the two of us, and you continued in the same pattern. You’d stop at the same places, do the same things, and proceed in the same manner. My aim became a break in the monotony and habitualness of your time. I spoke. I complimented you. I directed your attention to things you had not before seen. I gave you a new perspective and found purpose in your few smiles, the times your eyes made contact with mine and I held it, the moment you pointed out that baby doll on the trashcan that I too showed you. Because then I knew you understood me, I knew I was getting through and in some way enriching your time by being there. I knew that it mattered.
And when we left, I felt I had betrayed you. I had betrayed those times you looked me in the eyes and saw something there that pulled your lips into a broken smile, I betrayed those times you spoke to me and shared with me the simplest elements of your life that you had come to treasure, the beloved aspects that took you away from the prison of your mind to happier times. I betrayed your trust, your comfort, your loyalty asĀ  you held the door open for me to follow behind you in your continual loop. You wanted out. You wanted to escape the monotony of death that you had been forcibly submitted to. You wanted to see more than the bird’s nest on the light and the statues of dogs that threatened no real bite. You wanted to be somewhere you felt safe, you wanted to be free, you wanted to be more than alone.
I walked out the door and did not look back. I heard the nurse try to persuade you back to your room. I felt your presence as you tried to force past her, retained by the very force that was meant to make your final time on earth more bearable. I saw in the mirror on the ceiling as the door closed, I felt the tears dropping from your eyes like daggers in my heart.
And I bid you adieu, for the final time.
And in that instant, I only wished I had held your hand.

A visit.

These things take time, love. These things take backbone.

More and more, I am learning the beauty of patience.
There’s something pretty grand about being able to take things as they come, one step at a time.
Life is this combination of moments preceding and following each other, overlapping and intertwining, complexly forming a depiction of who we are, where we’ve been, where we’re going.
You can’t rush this. There is no fast forward, and there’s no rewind. It’s just making the most of what you have, enjoying what you’ve had, and looking forward to what you’ll have.
They say patience is a virtue. Now, I don’t know about you…but that doesn’t tell me much. I know patience though. I understand it. Patience is soothing a shrieking baby after a week without sleep, trying to help them feel safe. Patience is answering a toddler’s questions, every why after why after why, without losing your temper. Patience is giving second chances, and third, fourth, to a friend. Patience is doing what you no longer want to do when it’s the hard thing to do, because you know it’s necessary…you know the profit is worth it.
Patience is a difficult thing, there’s no denying that. We all struggle with it. But I think in living, we get a little better. We learn to stay calm for a little longer. We understand that some things aren’t worth getting upset about. We accept that not only are we not perfect, but no one is perfect.
I’ll readily admit that there’s not a lot I know. And I still have a whole world to learn. But I happen to think the sharing of knowledge is a pretty good well to learn. I offer you some, you offer me some. We both come away with a better understanding of something, right?
So, there’s some aspect of your life–today–that demands patience. Breathe. Relax. Address the necessary concerns with a strength and determination that can only be admired. Be patient.

These things take time, love. These things take backbone.