One of the worst truths, I’ve noticed, is that you can’t learn lessons from films or books or other people’s experiences. You get the message, give them a nod, then store it away in the back of your brain and forget about it.
And then it happens to you and you finally understand.
I am alone. I don’t mean I am alone in a crowd, or alone without a parent’s love or the care of people around me. I mean I have gone my own way and I think I’ve finally overstepped that barrier that held me back, rooted me to life because of obligation to the ones who love me. I really feel like I’ve nothing holding me back anymore and it’s not as freeing as you’d think. I just don’t care anymore. I don’t give two shits about what my best friend thinks of what I want to do when just last week I’d run everything past her and make sure she is ok and my anger, desolation and constant daydreams about death don’t show through.
This is happening because I no longer have relevance. Because nothing I ever complete here will be spectacular or worth much. The world is based on society and whether I like it or not, my worth is measured by what I contribute. I cannot live in the world just being meaningful. If it is a struggle to get out of bed in the morning and an impossibility that I should live a normal life, how can I ever hope to become something wonderful? Why should I submit to the human desperation of wanting to leave a legacy? Why can’t I be something more, something beyond, something that’s past human?
I’m aware I sound ungrateful, whiny and selfish at this point. A little moment of introspection. Normally I’d backspace, but I just do not care.
Acceptance comes in a lot of forms, and this is one of them. This is the first time I have truly accepted something of this magnitude and it has turned me to ice. There’s been kicking, screaming, crying and self mutilation until this point and I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I am not special. I am not unique and I can never be. Not to me and certainly not to her. I may be one in a million but there are 7 billion people in the world and I am replaceable.
There’s a line in a concept album I’m fond of that refers to the sister of the protagonist, who can walk on water when she sleeps. The tenderness with which he sings about her paints her in such an unearthly, beautiful and delicate light and I’m so overwhelmed by how much perspective can change things. It’s given me a dangerously romantic view of how her story ends, which comes to a close when she walks into the woods, never to be seen again.
I can’t stop thinking about it. I obsess over it. It has become fixed in my mind that this = freedom and this is what I want, this is what I need, this is how I go and now my time has come because I’ve sure as hell overstayed my welcome. It feels absolutely right. An ending fit for me, the girl obsessed with beauty, living broken in two and always striving to be more than human. There is beauty in sadness, and surely there is no death more beautiful than this?
I wish I had the strength of mind at this point to make this sound as beautiful a picture as it is painted in my head but eloquence fails me as the one thing that I’m fixed on in my mind overwhelms all else. I have no reason for posting this save putting my thoughts in some order, as they are my most prized possessions. I hope this is goodbye. I wish it were a happy or a peaceful one, but it is at least one that comes with a sense of relief and acceptance, like sitting down after a long, long day.
I’m either honest or I’m an optimist, but never both at the same time