Saturday, May 16, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
The Ghosts of All Good Things
I dread the instant my head will hit the pillow because, in that moment, they'll all come rushing in. All of them strangers, all of them jostling for my attention. They need not even try, I wish I could shut them out but I know it's a losing battle. Their words vary from pleas of help to angry outbursts to passive indifference. It would be much easier for me if they would go one at a time, otherwise, my head will burst from the clutter.
Though, I mainly sift through their words while I wait for the one voice that shows up every night. There's an eerie familiarity to it but I can never place it. It never yells, never is joyful, it's always morose and disappointed. Asking me how I could let her go, if I truly forgot the way I was raised, why I did so many things, why I gave up... And each night, I have no answers for the mounting questions and a little piece of me retreats until the voices give up and leave me to sleep.
Every morning I awaken more confused and clouded in doubt. I go through the day trying to make sense of it all, trying to think of the answers that will make them go away, only to become more frantic about the conversations the night to come will hold. I try to think of ways to avoid sleep but it is inevitable and I have to accept that I will have to endure another night.
Until last night, when the voice took on a new tone, well, an old tone really. One that I knew from long ago, long before life got in the way. And it said to me, "Why aren't you who you are supposed to be? You know this is not the way things were meant to turn out. We have given so much for you to be better, just embrace it."
And I cried. For all the things I have and have not done. For being a false image of myself. For them and all the things they have done to make me who I can be. They, the ghosts of all good things in my life, had haunted me for far too long, but now, are leading me where I need to go.
Though, I mainly sift through their words while I wait for the one voice that shows up every night. There's an eerie familiarity to it but I can never place it. It never yells, never is joyful, it's always morose and disappointed. Asking me how I could let her go, if I truly forgot the way I was raised, why I did so many things, why I gave up... And each night, I have no answers for the mounting questions and a little piece of me retreats until the voices give up and leave me to sleep.
Every morning I awaken more confused and clouded in doubt. I go through the day trying to make sense of it all, trying to think of the answers that will make them go away, only to become more frantic about the conversations the night to come will hold. I try to think of ways to avoid sleep but it is inevitable and I have to accept that I will have to endure another night.
Until last night, when the voice took on a new tone, well, an old tone really. One that I knew from long ago, long before life got in the way. And it said to me, "Why aren't you who you are supposed to be? You know this is not the way things were meant to turn out. We have given so much for you to be better, just embrace it."
And I cried. For all the things I have and have not done. For being a false image of myself. For them and all the things they have done to make me who I can be. They, the ghosts of all good things in my life, had haunted me for far too long, but now, are leading me where I need to go.
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