Someone used to say to me, after a particularly bad night finding me begging for a death that was far more preferable to the life I was living, that it wasn’t his fault, he had been painted into a corner. As my journey in life takes me to new places, I find a bit of validity in those words. With a minor edit; I have painted myself into a corner.
And so, here I am, in a different place now, or rather, preparing to be in a different place. A bump in the road, perhaps, but a steep little bump at that. The things I dreamed about, believed in, I realize are gone… again. Today is where I exist; this place, this time. With all the anticipation and dread that comes with it.
I find myself staring into a vast unknown, filled with more unease than I have felt in a great many years. I’ve been through hell and back again, I’ve survived so much, and there are days when I am so tired. But this latest adventure, if I can call it such, I have no one to blame but my own damn self.
I relaxed where I should not have, believed where there was nothing worthy of such faith, and allowed myself to get far too comfortable in a life that was never truly mine. Again.
I’d say that I’ve learned my lesson, but the truth is, I haven’t. I’ll do it again. Over and over again. I’ll believe in the happy ever after, because in this world, honestly, that belief is all I have left. I’ll trust that the world won’t be so brutal, and when it is, I’ll sit quietly and lick my wounds and dream of better days. And then I’ll get up and do it all over again.
I will giggle and laugh, I will find humor in the oddest places, and I will survive this newest change. Perhaps I may not laugh as loud for awhile, and perhaps you might notice my eyes a little shinier than usual (it’s dust, I swear!), but I will land on my feet.
I will still believe in happy ever after when I come out of the other side of the rabbit hole. There is nothing that will ever take that away from me; but for now, happy ever after seems so very far away. Sometimes I resent the hell out of that, but this time, I did it to myself.
I’m walking into this thing with eyes wide open; maybe there’s a shimmer of belief left, maybe that shimmer just got up and walked away, but either way, I think I know exactly what I’m doing. I think…
Several of my friends have expressed concern about the move I’m making, knowing me as they do and knowing how fragile that black little thing in my chest truly is, but I’ll remind them again of the promise I made to myself…
I’m going to love like I’ve never been hurt.