Forever Untitled

If I were to have a diary, if I were to keep a journal of all of my experiences…what would the pages hold?
 What would the words describe, what kind of truths would become unveiled?

Would I be proud of what you are reading? Would I wait eagerly for an emotion from your face?

Would I be confident of the life I had led? Or would I stumble to my knees at the thought of the truth?

What would come from those passages? Would lives be touched or would they be torched?

What lies inside my mind, only God knows. Is it supposed to stay that way? Is fear supposed to reside forever inside?  But what is it exactly I fear? What keeps me cornered? I’m hiding and I don’t even know what covers me. Am I being hidden or are you being shielded from what could come from beneath the cloak?

I wouldn’t know what to tell, I wouldn’t know how much you want to know, how do I measure the scale? The question burdens me with fear of what you may think, are you prepared? Could you ever possibly understand? Could I?

There is a plethora of stories, so many things I have done and seen. I have forgotten some, and some haunt me in my sleep, I am stricken with grief and I am overwhelmed with laughter at times. There is no particular story that I am most fond of, there is not one particular thing that I am numbed by, it is just a simple, complete overtaking of emotion that has brought me to this state. Is there something wrong with me? I don’t necessarily think so, but then again not everyone agrees with my opinions.  If I had a wish, only one thing I could gain from this world, it would to have the gift of understanding, I am most confused of why things happen; why do I get overwhelmed with emotion at random times? Why do I have such anger and hate inside? Why do I cry for no reason? Why won’t these things in my life just go away and fall to rest? Will I ever be able to move on? Will I be able to forget? Will I be able to forgive?

You see it has never been a problem for me in the past to deal with grief, death or loss. It seems as if though, that this life is a test, in this ultimate test I have not received training, I have not been given the assistance of a tutor, but at the same time I have been given all the answers. Weird isn’t it? I think so.  If you don’t understand, trust me you are not alone.

I love my life, I am truly happy, but that does not mean I don’t hurt, that I don’t mourn, that I don’t have remorse for the things I have done, or the things that I have seen.  No one in the world has an easy life, no matter how it looks from the outside, what perspective could one possibly have from the outside?  I have thought about seeking the assistance of a grief counselor, a PTSD therapist and a psychologist, but I wouldn’t know where to begin, not because there is so much to describe, but what is it that is hurting me inside at all…I do not know.  

I lose patience over the simplest things, I spout hateful things from my mouth and mind that I seem to have lost all control, I am not the same as I once was, and actually, it’s okay. I am not ashamed of who I am, but just a little confused of how I got here, to this point in time, what has shaped me in such a way.

There are countless analogies and metaphors for this life, and they’re all true, but that doesn’t bring any more understanding to my mind, it doesn’t put to rest the questions that remain unanswered.  Is it advice that I seek? Is it to be healed? Is it to be forgiven? Is it to be set free? If I knew the answer to these questions, this story would be over.

My story is not over, it hasn’t even reached its plot climax, has it? Confusion is a powerful term, but that is exactly what I feel, and it’s okay to be confused, how boring would it be to know everything.  I am confused at why it is so hard for me to motivate myself to do the simplest tasks, to take the challenge of the day head on like I once did. I don’t know what has brought me to this place, but it has been a wild ride and it has been long one.

Talking with friends and family is so entertaining, not from the drama aspect, not from the suspense and surprises, but to me it’s entertaining because it reminds me that I am not the only one. Now think about this if you will, I sometimes find myself people watching, looking at someone and thinking “They have a life, they have dreams, accomplishments met and not yet even realized, they have destinations, they have aspirations and hurt and loss and a life full of time left to go” and it just amazes me that there are all these different paths that we take, and no two paths are the same, no two stories will have the same events in them, but they have so much in common, all of our stories come from the same Author, we all share a similar beginning and we all reach our conclusions. When you speak with someone you are caught in the moment, and as people we love to share, we love to talk and to listen, because it forces us to relive or to be engaged in another aspect of another path, we have a chance to visit a different story.

I would very much like to revisit the events of my life that have brought me to this point, and I would love to see yours.

I don’t ask for sympathy, or for understanding, I don’t ask that what you read change your life, I don’t ask that you take a look at your own life, and in the end I may not even be sure what I’m asking of you, if it’s even anything at all.