I'm wondering.
Just because I feel like I could put the pieces of myself back together, does that mean that I should do it?
It really wasn't so bad, being rubble. Once I got over the indignity of it all. There's wasn't a whole lot of pressure to stand up when everyone around me could see that I simply wasn't capable of it. There was also very little fear that things could get worse - how could it? I was already laying on the ground.
Well, one way things could get worse would be if I rebuilt myself and then got knocked down again. For with every fall the debris left scattered across the ground gets smaller and smaller. Eventually, I fear, I'd be reduced to a pile of dust. Dust that the first strong wind would spirit away, leaving nothing behind to show that I'd ever even existed, let alone that I'd lived, and that I'd loved, and that I'd lost.
Sometime over the next few days I need to write something to close out this past year. I really should have done it weeks ago. But I didn't. I didn't because it's scary to reassemble a life that was never really that great to begin with. Am I supposed to be happy that I finally have a chance to go back to that bland, boring, fucking content person that I used to be before I met her?
I used to think that it was all I wanted - a chance to stop being sad. Now I've actually got that, and it isn't enough. Not even close. I don't want the sadness back. I could get it. Easily. I could just pop these corks that contain the pressures inside me and let everything wash over me again, further eroding the softest parts of myself and eventually leaving nothing but hard, stony chunks of hatred and bitterness behind.
I certainly don't want that.
What I want, what I want is to be someone I don't think I've never been. Someone I'm not even sure I'm capable of being. A person both capable of, and deserving of love. If I try to rebuild myself, I'll try to do it right. I'll try to make myself into the person I want to be, but I really don't know how to proceed. I don't even know where to start.
It should be an easy choice to make, but for some reason I'm really struggling with it. The chance for failure is very real to me, more real than it's ever been before. The pain of my last fall is mostly gone now, but the memory of it sends chills down my spine.
If I turn my gaze from the past I'll either have to look to the future, or shut my eyes forever.
