As the leaves change to brown and the sun is eager to fall and slow to rise, I cannot help but reflect on this moment in time.
Days have been dragging and moments are quick to slip from my notice. Nothing makes sense anymore—but has it ever?
I look up at the sky a lot and try to make sense of the clouds, the pink-orange horizon as the sun rises. Waiting for answers, I turn to bed, where I am the master of my destiny.
Why is that my dreams are more fruitful than reality?
I tend to try to make sense of the insensible. Life is not supposed to be straight paths and coloring within the lines. It is not in my nature to let fate take hold of the wheel and for me to sit in the passenger seat, enjoying the ride. I love being in control even if it’s only fantasy.
On my knees once a week, I never thought myself devoted to religion but I cannot help but cry during my private conversations with God. All of this uncertainty in the world, it usually feeds into my anxiety but as of late, I am more than confident that I can handle what God has put on my plate.
The walls around my heart were never perfect but they stood straight. Tall. Thick as the Earth’s core as the people around me tried to wiggle their way through the cracks. It’s not as easy to push people away when my defenses are in disarray. I am falling apart at the seams but is it messed up that I am enjoying the process?
Gone are the metal armor, the shields, the lance, the prancing horses, and magic—it’s just me, crumbling down to the barest of elements.
I have never been more alive than now once I stepped away from my watch. Life is mine for the taking, to experiences with open arms and hands and I am ravenous.