Where can one go at 11 o’clock at night and alone to the
world? I want to say fuck it all I
don’t care if anything happens to me, but that’s a lie. I care because I could go away, but I
would miss these poor, lovely people.
So at this time of night and on and on as it goes and I stay awake the
church doors close, the home doors close, and I have no money and burning red
eyes because the tears have been flowing for hours.
I took a bath to calm myself down, and it didn’t help. I shaved my legs, imperfectly, because
of tears actually clouding my vision.
Does that even happen?
Anyway, I told myself “Don’t mess up the shaving. Don’t mess up the shaving. Don’t mess up the shaving. Don’t mess up the shaving. Don’t mess up the shaving. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up.” I don’t know how many times I said it
to myself but thankfully the water was running so no one could hear my mind
break. No one could. No one.
I still want to tear something apart. I don’t know if that’s a thing.
I sat against my closet doors on the floor because I’ve
never sat there before and I wanted to see things differently. And my room looked different—even more
like a prison. I’m not here
because I want to be, I’m just stuck here. My shelves of books that I once called my friends have
betrayed me. I want to stab them
all. My bookcases and floor looked
like yellow wall-paper. It all
wanted to trap me.
And for all this I’m not even happy. She was happy creeping around in her
yellow wall-papered room, but I’m not anymore. I can’t stay here anymore, but I’m literally trapped. I have nothing. NOTHING. Nothing.
I watched myself cry in the mirror tonight. I thought it would make me stop crying
but it didn’t work. Nothing works.
When my friends call or text me I don’t like to answer
because I’m a mess and I don’t want to hold it together but I have to because
people need me to help them.
Coupons. The
most exciting thing about today.
I am not, anymore.
2 comments:
Dear friend,
People need you. It's true. You have such an incredibly giving heart that people will always come to you with needs. And you will help them because what better way to show Christ's love for them than sacrificing your life for them?
But you are not a sacrifice. Jesus already did that.
You are Danielle.
A daughter of God that has an incredible destiny written for her.
Your life was not meant to carry the burdens of everyone else around you.
Jesus is supposed to do that.
Your life was created for freedom.
Be free to be a mess.
Be free to struggle.
Be free to live.
We are meant to care for others. We are meant to love them well.
But we are not meant to be their Jesus.
You are meant to be you.
Which means breaking down every once in a while.
So be a mess.
Find out who you are. Not what people want you to be.
It'll probably offend people. Others will always want you to carry their burdens and will try and force them on you.
But who knows? It might also teach them to grow stronger. It might lead them to fight their own battles. It might even lead them to rely on Jesus even more than before. And yes. It also means that they might fail. Maybe their life will fall into shambles. But that's where grace comes in. That's where love comes into play and we learn to truly love each other.
Sorry for the intensity of this comment. In fact, feel free to message me with whatever feelings arise from this. I love you friend and I'm thankful for the woman you are.
Thank you for the good writeup. It in fact was a amusement account it.
Look advanced to more added agreeable from you! However, how can we
communicate?
Look into my page ... michigan uia
Post a Comment