“I was tied, but now unbound. My head is off the ground.”
I don’t have a lot of people that I’m close to, much more by choice than by chance. This wasn’t always the case, but after getting burned and disappointed one too many times, I built up walls and distractions to steel myself against ever feeling that way again.
“For a long time I was so weary. Tired of the sound, I’ve heard before. The gnawing of the night time at the door.”
But the thing about emotional walls is that they also keep you from feeling just about anything except numb. I’m okay with this most of the time, or at least I think I am until something happens and I’m reminded that while I can be okay with this, that doesn’t mean I have to be.
“Haunted by the things I’ve made. Stuck between the burning light and the dust shade.”
A good friend sent me a CD of some of her favorite music. I popped it in my truck on the way home and brick by brick, with each of the 12 simple tracks on the disc, the whole damn wall came crashing down.
“I said now I used to think the past was dead and gone. But I was wrong, so wrong, whatever makes you blind must make you strong.”
I pulled into my driveway and sat parked with the engine off and the music on. As I watched the squirrels hop from tree to tree, I did something I rarely ever do. I quit fighting it.
“In my time I’ve melted into many forms. From the day that I was born, I know that there’s no place to hide.”
I’m not quite sure what “it” was that I was fighting. Not sadness over anything in particular, but rather a culmination of stress, of love, of loss…of life. Without distracting myself in an effort to feel, well, anything, I started to feel everything.
“Stuck between the burning shade and the fading light.”
There are times I worry so much about liking someone or something too much and having it taken away that I default to feeling too little or nothing at all.
I forget that most of the people that like me did so before I started trying to make sure it stayed that way, before I worried about what I said or did.
“Well you walk these lonely streets that people send. There are some wounds that just can’t mend.”
I forget that yes, I can be okay alone within the safety of my walls, but that doesn’t mean I have to be. And while I know these revelations are usually fleeting, it’s nice to have a reminder that I can feel emotion without feeling like I’m weak or broken.
“I am free from all the things that take my friends. But I will stand hear till the end.”
That by opening up to people and showing vulnerability—to even just one person—I can gain so much more in the end. If I choose to, I can feel, well, everything.
“I was broken, for a long time, but It’s over now.”
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This rare display of emotion coincided nicely with the Studio30 Plus prompt this week:
It wasn’t what I expected.