It is over. After what seemed like an endless night of groping blindly in the dark, desperately searching for solace, the horizon has bled a few ribbons of light showing me that morning is indeed coming. A sadness with depth I have never before felt follows me around like a lost child. Regret quietly asks if I am doing the right thing but I know that I cannot stay here and hope for an intangible; if I do it will be to my own detriment.
There are few people to whom I pledge my unwavering loyalty, but when they come into my life, I hold on for dear life. When those relationships come to an end, I feel betrayed….I partially feel like it is my fault even if it is not. I feel that if I am truly loyal, I will not give up no matter the futility of trying to hold things together. I feel like I have failed my storybook attempt to do whatever I can to inspire feelings of devotion in another. I cannot stand failure in any capacity; this most recent one is multifaceted and it is like failing numerous times in succession. I don’t want to say goodbye. But I have to. It causes me to curse life, fate, chance, whatever it was and out of spite, doubt the future. I will always wonder “why”. It isn’t fair in the least but life usually isn’t.
I am known to say “this is the last time” many times. However, I am almost 27, I have had an extremely difficult and enlightening year back on the east coast and it has clarified at the least where I want to be. I am moving back to Arizona toward the end of summer, feeling so many things simultaneously that it is all-consuming. For every ounce of excitement, there are second guesses and self criticism–taunts that make me question my loyalty. For every feeling of “spring”–the prospect of starting over, there is extreme nostalgia for what was while I was here and I hate it. I am tired of being upset, I am so tired of my emotional intensity but it will always be this way; it is part of my blueprint.
My young adult life has been the most internally tumultuous “big bang” I have ever witnessed; at least in comparison to those I know. I am biased, however, since it is my life. Everyone’s happenings are unique unto them so someone else could make the same claim I suppose, though due to the dimensions of the way I experience everything so intensely & in such a way that is quiveringly alive, I give my claim merit. Kiss my ass if you think it is vain. I would love to say it is downhill & easier from here but I know that is simply not true. I may have some level ground to walk out the rest of my 20’s on, but I am quite sure those plains will be sporadic and brief. What is my life if not a struggle of contending forces, me being one of them? Me being caught in the middle of them? Fate vs. free will vs. good vs. evil. It is like a war movie that never ends and every time I want to give up from exhaustion, the second wind that comes from the desire to survive kicks in and I continue on. I think I get that from my ma.
I am moderately excited at the thought of what awaits me in the west, but I am slightly detached as well, not wanting to know for fear of more let downs. Let downs will always happen and worrying about the potential of them is completely impractical and bound to be a source of subliminal stress. Not worth it. I understand that but logic is not the cornerstone of emotion. Sometimes I just want to break down and cry, not out of sadness but because of everything I feel and the depth of it; it is so much that it makes me physically shake sometimes. There have got to be other people who experience life in this way and I really want to find them.
Currently playing: “Hometown Glory” by Adele.