One More Day

     The street lamp flickered for a quick second before the light's existence ended altogether. I couldn't help but stop and stare wondering if the light would return.  After a minute or so, my eyes shut to pull myself away from the trance I had been under. I stood there unaware of the time. It didn't seem to matter. I was on display in the midnight air only to the demons surrounding me. They were watching as I waited for a bus to escape from the storybook life I was in. But there would be no bus making a stop tonight. Or any night soon. As I turned the page to the end of my artificial existence, I tried to jump off the page back into reality, but my feet had become attached to the glossed paper. 

     This was it. After fighting the dragons and leaping across burning bridges, I was captured by the antagonist of the last page. I tilted my head down to see if my legs would move even an inch, but my mind was held captive by an unfamiliar host. My thoughts had shifted from being saved to being forgotten. And I didn't fight it. Even if I wanted to slay one last enemy, my tired bones could not obtain any miniscule of strength. I had misplaced my emotion to feel and transformed into a character unwilling to add words at the end of the book. I was simply searching for a pen to add one last simple phrase to the final sheet of paper. The End. 

     I massacred every God-given talent I received upon birth. God entrusted me with far more power than I deserved & far too many opportunities that I turned my back on.  I placed my face into my cold palms, hoping that I would disappear to avoid the disappointment. I was a failure. I stamped that phrase into my brain with permanent ink. Ink so deeply embedded that no eraser could possibly wipe away the understanding of my true nature. My heart; however, acquired a small sliver of hope that I hid under the guilt I consistently grasped. That petite shaving of faith was my worst opponent. I could not bear anymore battle, which is why I locked away the only positive entity left within myself. 

     Why? Why does the light try and shine through the darkened clouds? Why does hope churn the innermost atom of my being? I was disabled and weakened by the years of scratching away at the white paint. All that was left behind of the once clean walls was misery and confusion. I had become unrecognizable. I felt the demonic ghost-like hands gripping at my clothes to pull me into a deeper, darker direction. How was that possible? I touched my shoulder anticipating the feeling of another's skin, but there was nothing but fabric. I was so alone that I craved even the touch of demons.

      Lost on an empty street, I laid down on the double yellow lines. I never intended to search for a way out, I was simply looking for a way through, but the fog became too thick and my eyes were to tired. This was it. I shifted my eyelids towards my chin to disappear into a dark abyss. I couldn't help but rummage through my memories, wondering if there was any warm feeling to cling to before I left. I felt the first snowflake of winter touch my nose which in turn, warmed my heart. I heard the crashing of the giant waves dive into the ocean before kissing my toes on the shore. I cringed at the tightness of a loved one's embrace, but welcomed the feeling anyways. I studied the child laughing in pure joy at the beauty of life. I tasted it all. The aftertaste though, tugged my feet back to the ground. I felt the tears that continually burned my face. I heard the unforgiving words that never left my mind. I winced at the image staring back at me in the mirror.

      I shook my head back to the reality of the concrete beneath me. I was ready. I was finished. As I was drowning my humanity inside me, I heard the wind rustle through the leaves. It prompted my eyes open which were met by the black street lamp that I was staring at before. I blinked a few times to focus my mind back on the purpose at hand. The last blink was caught by a gleam above me. I widened my eyes searching for the unknown. Suddenly, the lamp flickered like it was fighting it's fate. Within a minute, the bulb had illuminated brighter than it was before. I shaded my eyes from the glow, but was unable to achieve the darkness I so badly wanted to fade into. I adjusted to the sunny atmosphere and raised my body from the turf. I stumbled to the edge of the road and sat down on the curb, hoping to feel the villainous hands, but instead I was greeted with a warm blanket of desire for something more. One more day, I thought. One more page.

Almost Lover

The green, wooden door closed quietly as I stood on the porch staring at my wet shoes. The cold rain continued to fall from the dark sky onto my shivering, lonely skin. I looked at my hands as if the answers were written on them. I knew I was crying, but the rain camouflaged my tears. My legs were stuck on the concrete as if they were trees unwilling to be uprooted. The porch light went dim signaling me to dismiss myself from the property. I took one last glance at the door and turned away from all that my heart had come to love so deeply. I took the first step off the porch when the puddle of water underneath my left foot was deeper than expected. The only pain I felt as I lay on the flooded ground was the pain inside my chest. I finally managed to drag myself into the car and drive away from the line of houses. The only word I was capable of speaking was "No." 

     The road in front of me seemed blurry, but it became clear it was my mind that was in a fog. I was too impaired to be driving. I pulled into the driveway, reached for the knob to turn the lights off and stepped out of the vehicle. I took a deep breath and stumbled into the garage. I unlatched the door and collapsed to the floor. I noticed the ring on my right hand and I felt the warm drops falling from my eyes. I only let a few tears fall before I stood up and made my way upstairs. I crawled into bed and lay there numb to any feeling that a person was able to conjure up in their body. I was empty. isolated. deserted. abandoned. 

     My face was expressionless for 17 weeks. There were days I couldn't even manage to pull the blankets away from my thinning body. There were days I laid on the floor, because I thought being in a comfortable bed would make me happy and that was one feeling I never wanted to become familiar with again. Anytime I saw your face, I buried mine. Anytime you smiled, I dismissed myself from the room to wipe away the uncontrollable streams flowing from my eyes. When i heard your laugh, I felt every bit of what was left of me slowly perish. I was broken. 

     On the last day of the 17th week, I woke up to the sun streaming in the window throwing parallel lines up against the wall. I placed my feet on the carpet and walked over the picture of us still hanging in the room. I reached up, pulled the frame from the wall, looked at your features one last time and placed the picture in the dresser drawer. My body had become frail and tired as well as my mind emotionally drained. It was time to put the pieces back together. Before I knew it, I was packing clothes and writing on boxes. The fear of starting over was overpowered by my desire to feel something again. 

     That was over a year ago. 

     Saying the past 14 months have been the best of my life, would be an understatement. The day I made the difficult decision to walk away from the torture I found myself living in was the day I found hope. Everyone watched as the flower no one thought could be revived, began growing taller and stronger than any other blossom in the garden. And I'm not done growing. My thoughts flutter around him occasionally wondering what he is thinking or feeling. I'm quick to remind myself that it should never be that easy to walk away from someone you want standing next to you till the day you find yourself meeting God. The love I had for you was stronger than anything I've ever felt, and the road I've been traveling has it's repercussions from the anger and sadness I sometimes feel. Then road is slowly being paved and smoothed over though. I'm sitting her smiling unsure of how I made it through, but knowing I not only survived, but was able to thrive in the midst of disaster. 

So long my luckless romance, My back is turned on you.

Should have known you'd bring me heart ache. Almost lovers always do.

Pursuit

     Reaching behind the desk to find the stubborn pencil that once again rolled off the wood surface, my hand caught a crumbled piece of paper. I unwrinkled the sheet to discover a list. A smile came across my face as i had uncovered a bucket list made at some point in my past. I sat the record of aspirations aside and began writing again. My eyes and thoughts wondered back to the list quite frequently. I couldn't help but ponder what was holding me back from completing the adventures written on that page. After all, that page was filled with my true desires. Dreams more important than the life I was currently living. That's all they were though.. Dreams.

     I began questioning how many people had crumbled up dreams hidden behind reality that they would never complete. If I continue placing my goals under the stack of everyday life, will I ever truly feel satisfied? No. Life feels like a schedule. We must obtain a job, live in routine to support ourselves and constantly think about all the other things we could be doing. What if we were actually doing those "other things"? What if we were actually pursuing and checking off each ambition written on a scrap piece of paper that reflected what our hearts so tightly held on to. I will never be pleased knowing my heart is so full of passion that I'm not chasing.

     The average person agrees with routine because there is no element of surprise. No chance of sudden change. No chance of swerving away from our comfort zone. I've never been one for the rules of routine. I crave rebellion from the typical lifestyle. So these feelings lead me to make a decision. Do i want the element of surprise? Do I want to take chances and throw ordinary living to the wind? Of course. I want to feel the satisfaction of writing a completion date next to every goal written on that page. Sitting in the cubicle of routine gives me nightmares. Nightmares that I will waste the only life I'm given by constantly wishing away my life, instead of living the life I constantly wish about. I want to be free from the chains of a life that leaves no legacy. The time to start making a difference in your life as well as others is at the end of this sentence.

"All your dreams can come true if you have the courage to pursue them."