She looked happy, barely. And by that I mean she acted happy, poorly. Around her, time, seemed to crawl. Every smile or affectionate gaze seemed weighted. Weighted by what? Life? History? Conflict? Pain? Who knows. Maybe I’ll find out, or maybe she will continue acting. Correction, maybe she will continue lying. What makes us lie in that fashion? Is it out of some sort of pragmatic sense where-in we don’t want to negatively affect our surroundings? Or maybe we hope that by acting different we will feel different. Maybe it’s the optimists in us, that try to smile through the struggle, knowing it will all be over soon. But we aren’t all illusionists, no, our bruises shine on no matter how many glasses we toast, hugs we give, smiles we cast, pleasantries we take part in. Maybe it’s a combination of things. Hmph, I don’t know. Maybe the correct question would be to ask not why, but is this facade worth it?
Can I just take a minute to try to console someone’s wounded confidence? To each and every girl (or guy) with physical related self-esteem issues, which let’s face it, is a lot of girls (or guys). Don’t give up, don’t let your insecurities get in the way of your life. We are our toughest critic, we’re not supposed to be satisfied with ourselves mentally and physically. That’s why we read, learn, try, struggle, practice, move on and move forward. I’m not saying, one day, that you will look into the mirror and see perfection. What I’m saying, however, is that at some point in time it will dawn on you- that you are still here, you are strong enough to exist, you got here through the thickness of your skin and persistence in your heart. And in that moment of recognition you will love yourself, scars and all. For you are here, you made it, and nothing can stop you.
Happy Valentine’s Day, someone somewhere.
Have you ever told someone you loved them, when you really didn’t? What made you lie? Was it a white lie, created out of a feeling of obligation, to avoid hurting someone close to you? Or did you believe at the time that you were actually in love? See, I want to taste your feelings while we kiss, I want to see your emotions when our eyes meet. Do you believe in love at first sight? Or do you believe that love is a foundation that must be built and maintained? See, I want to know what thoughts race through your mind when you lay in bed and if they stay with you upon mornings arrival or disappear with the coming of your dreams. Can you tell me who you want to become and what is stopping you from being that person? Did you know as a child who you wanted to be, or did you discover this after years of trial and error? See, I want to paint the picture of your perfect you, and help you become her in every way I can. I want you to tell me of every single insecurity you have. Do you make constant attempts to accept, get over and get past them? Or do you hide them deep down and hope some day they simply vanish? See, I want you to know that I adore your flaws, each and every one. Tell me about the last time you wanted to run away and never come back. Where would you have gone? And would you have changed your name? See, I want to know where to look if you ever disappear, so I can tell you I still care. If I told you neither the moon nor the stars exist would you ask me why? Or would you tell me why they do? See, I want to fill your head with nonsense, because nonsense makes sense to me. I want you to tell me about the last time you hated yourself and all the reasons why you have ever felt ashamed. See, I want your honesty and trust. But trust me, honestly, I will break it. But I deserve to carry that burden for the rest of my life.
If you answer me these questions I will tell you of the friends I’ve fucked over, the hearts I’ve broken and the homes I’ve wrecked. I will tell you why I feel like stagnant water. I will tell you why my parents shouldn’t support me anymore. I will tell you my biggest fears and my most elaborate dreams. I will tell you the names of the people I love.
(Inspired by, as well my adaptation of, Andrea Gibson’s “Asking too much”.)
I really don’t understand the quote “Everyone Dies Alone”, being born and the inescapable death are the few things that every single person walking this earth share. When you are born and when you die you are more connected to human existence then you ever have or ever will be.