herlucidlife

Coming in waves the head is heavy with dreariness. Body drained from the mental olympics we run everyday. Grateful for every hurdle I’ve begun looking for forever rest. Before every post I get a little writer’s block from all the emotions running to the exit all wanting to be heard. Get a little fearful thinking has the magic out of my fingers gone dry? No it’s just the excitement of wielding a pen brings joy no one can surpass. 

Have you ever been at a point where maybe the people around you know you better than you? I believe that at certain points in my life those that love me most will be able to guide me back to who I am. What if the community is there to mimic who you are when you feel lost? What if I was never really meant to see myself clearly? I want God to tell me who I am. He sent me a community that accurately depicts who I am. I’ve been feeling as though I don’t know myself, been feeling like the behaviors don’t match the name. 

Have I been too hard on you? Have I not been compassionate enough to the trouble that brought you to my doorstep? I don’t give too much empathy towards your end because frankly I don’t understand the premeditated ways you think. 

I wonder is it really loving for you to pop in and out when perhaps you clearly understand that behavior is causing damage? Or do you just say whatever because you need and can’t stay away for too long? I have a lot of questions because I have a hard time seeing through the emotions, my mind likes to believe you’re gaming. Then as time moves, I realize I don’t want to understand your mind, I don’t want to understand that I may gain empathy, no I just want to be left alone. Permanently. Can you do that? Or am I being selfish asking you to leave well enough alone, like really you have to know by now that you’re kicking something that’s already dead.

You threw me off, will I ever be rid of you. I’m hard on you because I’m hard on myself. I shouldn’t be if you could see my scars then you’d think I’d be crying rivers of compassion for your blood spilt. I have no more tears for you though, none that I could cry proudly, have you ever cried and felt pitiful for the production? I have. I know you’re scared too, unhinged too, even maybe crushed like me. 

It’s easy to paint you as this horrible being that is just out for the ride not caring who gets stepped on, that’s a lie. The truth is you’re a person like me, not good or bad, just a being that based on the circumstance and the emotional toll that is being carried is hoping to make the most sound decision for their life. Hoping that no one is harmed in the process. We’ve lived our lives in similar ways, miles apart. I took a path that maybe you couldn’t fathom taking, while you chose a road that almost broke my back. 

You’re weak for staying, I’m weak for leaving. Each decision took strength neither of us possessed, I understand love and life is one in the same. Both are God, possessed by God given to us at the appointed time. Perhaps our next appointed time simply hasn’t arrived.