Wednesday, April 27, 2011

..."let go in small doses..."

I don't know what will happen with this.  I hope you'll stay with me, as this mess unfolds, and I hope it will become something profound for both of us. 
If not, I apologize for the cluster-fuck you are about to endure...

For the love of anything and everything sacred, don't dull yourself out. 
You are something so marvelous, so spectacular, so stellar.
You know whether or not you are sitting in stagnant water.  You know whether something inside you is crying out, and you know whether or not you fight to hush it every day. 

I can't recognize the person I have become.  Sitting behind this magic box for a few hours every day, banging out marvelous prose in secret, scribbling away in notebooks that get locked away in a safe in a dark closet.  Pretending to be empathetic and "in touch", and all the while, knowing what an unpleasant wretch of a woman I have slowly become, because I am nowhere near where I imagined I would be, or where I know I could be, because I have constantly silenced the thing inside me that cried out. 

Because I have settled. 
Because I have lent myself to people who were embarrassed by me, rather than fed by me. 
Because I have tamed myself for those people, rather than shrugged off their insecurities as just that...their insecurities.  I have embraced them as my own, and now wear them as armor. 

I am not me.  I am "Krystal and..."  Nothing is left of the fantastic and miraculous soul that existed in me to start. 
I can't digest how people survive this.  How a person's heart doesn't just stop...
I want to discover every corner and every hidden place inside of him.  I want to turn him inside out, and memorize him, to never stop discovering, and yet he is simply uninterested in learning any more about me...and often even embarrassed by the flamboyant and grandiose person I can be.  How?  And it isn't because he's "bad."  It just is.  And I know it was from the beginning.  And I hate admitting that I saw it, and knew it from the beginning.  I hate knowing and admitting that I ignored it.  That I tolerated it.  That I allowed it.  That I lived with it.  I hate that I let someone throw water on my fire, and that now I'm just wet ash. 
I can't believe that the sun will come up tomorrow. 
I can't digest how people survive a person's heart doesn't just stop...

Don't die.  Sweet gods, don't dull yourself out.  Don't give yourself over to someone else to mold.  

And if you do, you have no one to blame but yourself. 

1 comment:

  1. You're a good deal more than wet ash, honey. You're epic and awesome. But I take your point. And I am thinking good loving thoughts for you.