My Path   Leave a comment

 

This is what we do?  We sit and we play these games with my life, going back and forth sharing intimate details as if they were just puzzle pieces.  But what I’m sharing I have no reason to share, not anymore.  I wanted you to be some sort of sounding board.  No, it was more than that.  I wanted you to be a warm receiver who took it all in and kept me safe from it.  I wanted you to be there for me to pour it out into.  You see, I’ve been carrying this around with me for as long as I could remember, even longer than that to be perfectly honest.  There hasn’t been a time when these sins and these fears weren’t wrapped around my neck, draped over my shoulders pulling me down.  My footsteps have grown heavy and with each breath I have grown more and more tired of this death march.  I want release.  I want someone to tell me it’s OK to surrender.  I don’t want to find strength to fight, I simply want to be allowed to let it all go and to sink deeper into the subtle waters of my own lacking self interest.

And I know that you would never be the one to give me that permission.  I just wanted to unburden myself of some of this treachery, these crimes I’ve committed and have thought to commit before I moved on to ask for redemption from a score of others who have actually been the victims.  Somehow, it had all made sense to me a short while ago.  But now it fails to matter.

I do not blame you for any of this falling to pieces.  I wrap up the edges of my mind, tucking it all back in safely and neat, away from the sights of anyone who would dare come close enough to witness me.  This is the way I was intended to be, alone and barred up, deeply hidden.  This is where monsters belong.  And I know that now.

I never doubted for a minute that I was making a mistake.  I just trusted for a second too long that somehow I would be able to recover more from it than I lost.

Even monsters underestimate the darkness sometimes.

Jen Czahur

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