Well…the world didn’t end. Darn it. Don’t you almost wish it had? Or am I the only one who feels that way? Hmm…
Forevermore… A POEM.
Life goes on.
Nothing has changed.
This world, my world…
all of it…it’s all the same.
Same as yesterday.
I still feel numb.
I’m still filled with hate.
Filled to the brim…
Like I’m going to break.
Tonight, here I lie…
Thoughts racing a million miles a minute and I’m wide awake.
As I ask myself…
Does the illusion end tonight?
Or will I live to see another day?
Are these the last breaths I will ever take?
So much riding on this, so much at stake.
Whatever can I do?
I’ve tried praying to God…he doesn’t hear me.
I’ve tried begging.
On my knees.
I’ve tried begging please…
Don’t let there be more.
For there’s only so much one person can take.
And I’ve filled my quota for the day.
For just one soul; for just one life.
Dare I say, my sanity is at stake…
As I wander, aimlessly, this road to becoming a fake.
Where to go from here?
How to escape the fear?
Tell me, is the end near?
Are those bright lights I see?
Voices of angels that I hear…beckoning?
Calling me home.
Should I join them?
Say goodbye to what might have been?
And just accept that this one battle I cannot win?
These thoughts are like weapons;
Sharp as knives, straight to the heart.
When does it end?
Where do I start?
Is it all in my head?
I really don’t think it is.
It doesn’t get more real than this.
Feels like I’m broken inside; bleeding within.
Caught up in the desperation and utter despair–
washed asunder by the blood of my sins.
I cannot break free.
God knows, I can’t win.
Where is an end to this game?
An end to the shame?
That haunts me on this cold, dark day.
Forever, I wait.
Forever in turmoil.
Forever to blame.
I do not exist.
I just transcend;
up, up and either further away…weightless.
I am nothing.
Nothing but a name.
At the bottom of the page.
A blurred life; forgotten.
This world, my world…
destined to be the same.
And. I. Am. Nothing.
Always the same.
So, aside from the world NOT ending…things are kind of crazy at the moment. I leave in two weeks for New York City. Only two more weeks…it seems so surreal. I feel like it’s all happening so fast. Almost TOO fast. I just feel like there’s so much to do…and so much that I haven’t done. So much that I’ve missed…and so much time that I’ve wasted. Lately, I just feel like I’ve wasted so much of the time that I’ve had here…with my family, my friends…and just in general. Ever since what happened in Newtown last week…I’ve been feeling like I should have done more, you know?
I keep thinking about those 26 victims…how they’ll never have another day with their families and loved ones. And yet, here I am–deliberately choosing and preparing to leave mine. In a way, I feel guilty for wanting to leave. For feeling like I HAVE to and NEED to leave. Is it wrong for me to want to start over? I feel like it shouldn’t be…like I shouldn’t feel bad about wanting to leave and to live my life. I’m just really confused right now.
If nothing else, what happened is just another painful reminder of how short life is…and how uncertain each and every day can be. You just never know what can happen. How unfinished a live can be. My family has always been my rock–the one constant in my life that I can depend on. And in two short weeks–that is all going to change. And I’m scared. I’m scared of how I’m going to feel and what’s going to happen when I don’t have that anymore. When I don’t have there there…minutes away…if ever I should need them. I’ve gone through so much…have seen and experienced so much…and yet, in a way, I almost feel unprepared. I’ve never been alone. I’ve never HAD to be…because I’ve always had them and they’ve always been there…even if I didn’t want them to be. It’s just really hard. I mean, they were really supportive of my decision in the beginning. And now…now that it’s getting closer to my leaving…they want me to stay. There are moments when I want to…and then another disagreement or fight starts and I feel like I’d give anything to get away. Moments when I start to resent them for being so overbearing and overprotective of me all these years; when I resent them for not preparing me to go out in the world on my own and for letting me lean on them so much all these years…letting me use them as a crutch. Then, of course, I start to feel guilty and ashamed for resenting them…knowing that they were just trying to do what was best and what they felt was right…because they loved me. And they do love me. I know that. I’ve never doubted that. I’m so thankful for that, even if I don’t always say it or show. I am.
I guess I have a lot on my mind…I don’t know. All I know is that this should be one of the best and the most exciting moments of my life. I should be beyond happy right now and looking forward to what’s to come…but I’m not…not completely. I’m worried about my oldest niece, Angelina. She’s having a really hard time with this…my leaving. She’s never been good with change, so she’s taking this hard. She doesn’t want me to go. She’s been begging me to stay for weeks now. She’s always acted far older than her age, which is why I some times forget that she’s only nine years old…that she’s still just a little girl. The way she sees it, I’m leaving her and walking out of her life. I’ve tried to explain, but I just can’t seem to find the right words or figure out how to put this in a way that she can understand. I wish I could bring her with me. That I could save her from what lies ahead, living in that house. I know how dysfunctional my family can be. After all, I grew up in the chaos. I love my family–I do–but they can really push a person’s limits. I know that…all too well, actually. They mean well, but even the best of intentions can cause a lot of damage. The pressure and expectations they put on you…it can be too much sometimes. I know, because I caved from it all more times than I can count while I was growing up. My biggest fear is that, like me, she’ll struggle. I know that it’s all just a part of growing up and that she has to learn eventually…but she doesn’t need to learn right now. She’s just a little girl. She deserves to have a childhood and I want her to have one. More than anything, I want that. I love that little girl so much. I don’t want her to get hurt or have her get her heart-broken. I don’t want the world to take away what makes her HER. I’ve seen the hell and the horror that is out there in the world and though I know I can’t, I just want to protect her from it all. Just for a little while longer, at least. And it breaks my heart that I might not be able to do that. I just wish that I could, that’s all.
Either way, it’s happening…