There are few moments when I can reconnect with people at home. I think I had that moment, if only for a second. Things got stupid for someone who somehow was expected to work the impossible when it was not her burden. It was a similar moment I had when I learned what a boundary was. It was literally cartoony, blatant as hell at how insanely stupid the moment was and against everything my better judgment offered I still reached out, not as a relative, or someone who is also surviving tendrils of abuse, but as a human being who wanted to offer a solution almost as fresh as spring water, cold and refreshing to them. In my most earnest and open way, I reached out and offered advice on how they should learn to create sure boundaries that prevent people from assuming you are the scapegoat of their ineptitude. I think I reached, but I will never know and I do not have that hope that most deluded or innocent people have. My time was running out, I needed to go, but I stayed as long as I could, hoping my words had meaning and that they reached them. Perhaps I am nieve, a small child who simply wants us all to do well, to be healed, to be free of nightmares past. I had to reach out and only when nausea hit me I had to go, trying to hold in imaginary sustenance.
I would have to be a fool to say I am that jaded. I just don't want to be hurt anymore, even if I have to grimace and pretend it isn't to ruin any victory to those who find nourishment in the pain of others. I am strong, but there are moments when I have to lay down in seclusion and fall apart from holding in so much. I was already feeling that I was getting sick and that would ruin what plans I had left that was not taken from me. As much as I hate to show it, it kills me every time that I disappoint anyone I care about. I once repealed so many until they forced themselves into my morbid and empty life to accept that I was their friend and even brother in this small moment we call life. I never wanted to be loved or depended on. I've failed so many before and failing more only weaken me in ways that I can never display to others. Moments that make me wish for early death. Moments that I know that once you disappoint someone you lost that mercy when they see you as you wish you were rather than what you are. That is my only chance to hide among so many of you.
Yet, I drove off pondering my time now. Things were looking better and I have yet to explain to many patient people what pulls me so only to realize that it doesn't matter. In the end, it really doesn't. The law is cold and sharp and cuts where it chooses to despite what you exclaim as truth or why it happened. There is no gray because it takes time to consider it. It's simple to line everyone up, ignoring motive and effort and mark them as you see fit. I was starting to accept that I'm was going to have to swallow some more. I was going to have to ingest something that I still believe was not my lot or what I am. Does not matter. Because I was placed in the role despite of those whose hands wroth such actions are worse off than I ever could imagine being. Haunted by the actions of individuals who I would consider forces of nature and destruction that you'd have to be a fool to believe they ever had compassion or free will of their own. Individuals who still seek forgiveness that I can no longer give despite of how hard I seclude myself from them.
It's why I whispered those who suffered the hells for another's hand and whispered a merciful thought that they can walk away with no connection. There is nothing and no one to bind them for decades.n Once they find the strength to walk away I myself will ensure they will never follow.
I wish I was so lucky.
In my melancholy reflection, I've realized I missed my exit and had to endure with my waiting to exit a congested street that only led to slow drivers and construction. With unknown patience, I suffered my way to the parking structure and exited for a bowl of happiness and a friends time. Too stuck in my own mind to see them already ordered and seated I walk about wondering if I sent them elsewhere and I now must contemplate how to beg forgiveness. Mercifully they arrived to pull me back from my own mind and into the restaurant. Fighting nausea and possible stressed sickness, I choose a regular bowl of what I usually can not have enough. Soup so well prepared that it can always fill you up with warmth and happiness. Immediately, I remember how delicious a friend they are as they pull me back to who I am supposed to be. My closest friends know when I am lost and in their ways, they either snap me out of my mental imprisonment. This one friend I am more than convinced is a Disney Princess despite what can be seen, but what is felt. They are of a gentle nature that they can soothe even my apathy with almost an erupting song of hope, joy, and love that seem to be sung as if The Rose was near. They are One of my most cherished Unicorns who always have a way of pulling the small, trusting child out. The child that loves freely and fears nothing. People such as them are rare and I have two who share a bond that would cause envy to any antediluvian deity.
In minutes, I lose the weight upon my shoulders and I feel free. We laugh and they shares moments saved for my enjoyment since we are not able to spend days together. We share laughs and insight and even an occasional stroll in order to digest what we had eaten in the most enjoyable way. They understand my fury and angst against places which does not serve Taro, especially since it's almost a birthright to said places. They understand that I say the most oddest of things and even allow my puckish nature to escape if only to show them that I can be roguish, I just choose to behave due to their Princess song. Then naturally we end up changing roles allowing me to sing to birds who will do my chores and have them play with mirth and mischevious acts.
I mean, thats what friends do.......share, no?
We find a cafe and we sip our forms of tea, them with boba, I with delicate glass tea cup and saucer. I always regret that I can not find a monocle and top hat to exclaim to the world how posh I am in these moments and realize my pinky extended is my only method of conveyance. Yet we sit and sip and soon I arrive at the point where I can speak. And they listen.
They know my ache. They know well what poisons me and what causes me to lament in seclusion. A story that always causes me to lose effort and desire to be, only to realize compassion sits across from me. I always risk losing people with my stories. No.....memories. they sadden me thinking of them and the only way I can speak them is monotone to prevent me from shedding tears. I used to tell my tale decades ago as just that, tales. I always lost people whose constitution was not prepared for such. I used to lose people who always looked at me differently, either with pity or dread as if I would get misery on them. They are made from....well, Disney princess stuffs so they listen, nod and tell me what I never want to hear.
"It's not your fault. This horrible thing just happened to you and you're trying, we all see you trying to get out of it. Please keep trying."
Right? Warms your heart, huh.
We spend out moments together a bit longer as we wince from soreness and perceived age. We embrace and promise we will see each other soon. They are a goodness. I need people like them in my life.
I end my nomadic pilgrimage at the residence of the Shorte Blonde who greets me with warmth and love at the door. After fixing her meal and-and allowing her to stretch her legs she joins me in the spare room and find her usual nook to curl up with me and slumber. We are at peace until her people arrive at which more of my closest friends arrive and I slowly awaken to see their most adorable progeny grinning a smile of pure sunshine. Her namesake, or what I perceive as her namesake, just won the Nobel prize for literature and decades ago tramped his way across the nation with an open tuned six string and a book of lyrics. I embrace her and lift her above me to land into loud smooches and smiles. She is also happy to see me. We sit and dinner is offered with close embraces and kind words.
I am lucky. I have so many magnificent people. It was how my Crazy Doc pulled me up, by my love. How can such a wretched creature be surrounded by such magnificent people if he too was not one of them?
Boom, right? I still don't think I'm special, but I have the most amazing gathering of awesome in the form of people.
We spend time, they allow me to join their family as if I was their own as so many do, and I offer what I pass on for love.
In the end, I collect my thoughts now, everyone including the Short Blonde slumbering in peace. I look over to my watch with my small collection of picks, CPR mask for that case of horror to come, and a small disk with a tiny dagger next to it. In harsh moments, where I need to give myself the benefit of the doubt and a bit of leniency I look at the words etched upon it and remind myself I have another delicious friend who boasts that I can not abandon her for the amount of time passed has endured a decade and that I'm stuck with her. I laugh now, realizing she also has pulled such a pessimistic ass out of his own idea of angst. Due to distance, her, like many, can not be close enough to arrive at my door and force me out. She has to rely on the most amazing banter, pleading for my stubborn ass to visit North, and small reminders that she is there even though she can not be there in person.......to tell me I'm being stupid.
"Not Today"
She understands how close I've been and how closeI can get to the Abyss. The Abyss is distant now, but there is always wisps near and a threat that I can lose my initiative and fail all saving throws, even though I love to say, "I'm fine."
Sitting now, writing to another I realize I am wealthy. I have people throughout the nation who knows who I am. I mean the real me. The one who isn't scary, or stupidly odd, or *shrugs*.
I mean, for someone to endure me is amazing. And if I honestly sit and think I'm surrounded by so many who love me, who think I have some value, who know I always aim to do the right thing, even if it's......odd...that my social anxiety always drives me to oddness and when it's really bad they can lure me out with a cookie or two. I mean, can I honestly complain?
No.....I can not.
Life is hard, yet life is also good and if I work hard, it will become better.
Peace and love.
Be good to each other, no?
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