journal · prose

New Year Past

What was it that I said? That you wake up every day and say, “this is not my life.” As in, “this is not where I thought I’d end up. How did I get here and how do I get out of here?”  That I wish I could have done it all differently. That I wish I could start over, somewhere new, something new, someone new. But the truth comes creeping around the corner, over the bend. No matter how hard, or fast, or far I go, I will never escape myself. It’s always in my head, I am always in my head, running thoughts, running circles, running into other thoughts. The repeat, the replay. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat. You can’t bite it out or scratch it out or beat it out of yourself. This depth. This void. This penitent, spiteful, hostile unhappiness that wreaks havoc on you and all of those you love. When your own thoughts strike you to your core, vanquish you, leave you bereft, desolate, desperate, and oh, so utterly alone. That’s what we always come back to, isn’t it? Alone: the human condition. That ravaging, savage state of being. That alone is all I have and all I will ever know. I will break down and build myself back up, break down again, and no one will ever truly know. Even if they know, they don’t know. Oh, to break free of this life, this mold. This Humanity. Can I set myself that free? I don’t know if I ever could be. When I am only me, the world-class actress, the useless, the worthless, looking for the thing that will make me real. I may never find anything that makes me feel so real. Perhaps only I can make me real. And what then? I have already failed miserable at everything I’ve touched. It always crumbles to dust before me, as though I suck the moisture, the life out of life. Is he the next victim of this awful crime? If I am the crime, I should be telling him, screaming, “run! Run! RUN!” Sock me, block me, lock up my memory and throw away the key. Set yourself free of me. I’ll only bring you down. If I’m already in the grave, that’s the only direction we can head in. So forget my face and erase my name. You’ll be much better off without me. If I weren’t so humanly selfish, I would. If I didn’t need him so damn much. If he didn’t light a fire in my bones and make me feel like a brand new woman. If he didn’t have such a fucking beautiful, fascinating mind. If he wasn’t such a breathtaking, mindblowing, incredible creature. I try to drink in each of his features, soak him up like a hardcore drug. The way his love feeds into my veins makes me feel so painfully alive. It’s excruciating in the most exquisite way. Every day, I wait. I wait for that moment. Hope to move in closer and feel like he’s only moving farther away. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, RUN AWAY, but don’t leave me! It’s a conundrum, a paradox, a fantastic fucking mess. Instead of digressing I have designs to undress him. I’ve lost the original story in all of these details. Can’t see the forest through the trees. Please, please, just give me something real. Help me solve this puzzle, before I burst and shatter. Lead me to the truth, the peace, the knowledge… the life I dreamed and buried as a dream. Lead me to love, to a release from the void. Lead me to true companionship. Lead me to the me I’ve always wanted to be. Take me… somewhere new. With your beautiful, beautiful mind.

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