Moving away from the city
Cares fade
Now everything seems so small
All of the drama, hopes, and dreams
Don’t matter anymore
Is this what death is like?
Spirit detaching from flesh
Moving from one reality to the next
Having enough distance to gain
Perspective, understanding
Gazing at one’s life
And judging without attachment
Simply analyzing how we did
This time around
And deciding if we want to do it again
To lose this supreme view
And dive back in
Where distance is lost
And everything is monumental
Love, loss, hardships, and slights
All there to envelop us
In a heavy blanket of experience
Until we are ready to throw it off
And remember what it was all for
What was it all for? Have I reaped any rewards from my choice to leave the Jehovah’s Witnesses at 18? I lost not only my religion, but my parents as well. I was never told that would happen. I didn’t know. Now they are no longer allowed to associate with me. And for what? A life lived alone or with boyfriends who could easily cheat and lie to someone so eager to believe in childhood dreams. Did I lose God for this? And Leo. There is no proof that this man who has me asking so many internal question, diving back into old pain, will not be the same.
Who hurt me? I hurt myself. I have failed to find love because I’ve never allowed it in. Never let anyone get too close. Always reserving a space for my parents. Hoping they would come back. But I’m growing tired of hoping. For Witnesses, and even me, the prophesied last days are upon us and I know not to reach out. To not be the sinful bait that will keep them away from everlasting life. I will not play that role. But I need love. I long for it. Therefore I must retell this tale and heal. I pray that I can finally move on from my own self-inflicted purgatory. Move into the light and haunt these inner halls of loneliness no more.
This period of my life shaped who I believed myself to be and tainted all of my relationships hence. “Why are you so desperate?” a man recently asked. Hurt by his observation, I displayed my desperation by cutting off all communication in that instant. Rage moving through my trembling hands as I hit “block” on my phone. My ego was satisfied but something deeper, calmer, knew the truth: I am desperate. Desperately trying to fix the past. To save my relationship with my parents. Especially my mother.
Let us begin the story of my fall with her. Mother. For it was she who fanned the flames. She who gave me enough inner fuel to let everything around me burn. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
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