Staying Drunk and Getting Lost
Days have gone from bad to worse. The longing and the rift between who to take heed continues and I am left always wondering what the ‘what ifs’ could actually bring should I let go and leave. The pull became stronger each day as I wrestle to fight for those who have relied on my physical presence and support.
Every night, I needed to recompose my thoughts to remind myself why I cannot leave for now, no matter how devastated I am inside. Whatever the odds, I needed to be here where I am because this is how it’s supposed to be. And I die everyday for my dreams, of concealed pursuits to find myself and the real purpose of why I am actually here for.
But then perhaps, this is the only purpose I was destined to fulfill.
I wish for time to stand still for me. I cannot afford to chase after lost dreams because I was once tied to this. They say people who keep wishing are those who have unfulfilled lives. For the most part, they are right and it saddens me. Every silent wish I say and dreams I intentionally let go sends back a harrowing sadness within. A void that rift apart my soul. I cannot keep on wishing all my life. Somehow, someday, these heartaches have to stop. But not today or tomorrow.
But I know, there will come a time.
The hardest moments to reckon with the thoughts of being free from this bondage, are those when silence suddenly sits in and my mind became idle. Those moments as I lay on my bed and my mind cannot keep from wandering or those moments of having been awaken from a deep sleep for no reason and you could not fade off to sleep again. Those long pauses of bus rides as I am stuck in a heavy traffic. Those times I would see something that reminds of my innate calling for passions I could not held in my hands. Those times I’d see my reflection on the mirror and hated what my eyes showed me. These are the hardest truth of having existed in a world where you do not actually fit in. I try to feign happiness and muster the guts to smile and find contentment at what I do, telling myself that by allowing myself to die everyday, I have in exchange helped somebody better live their lives. I needed this reason to keep me stay focus at what I do and keep my struggles at bay.
All of this at the expense of my own happiness.
The way I feel right now, is like trying to stay drunk for as long as I could take because I could not keep up with the reality if I don’t. Though, I had no idea how it is to really be drunk. Yeah, I might try it once so I would know as it is the great metaphor of my existence right now. As long as I am sealed in its spirit, there won’t be worries of whether this thing is what makes me happy or not… or if my heart is breaking.
It has been a pretty emotional ride I am getting myself on. Obviously. Some have asked why I am letting other people see my vulnerability and weaknesses when I could have chosen to keep it private. Why I am wearing my heart on my sleeve when I could have drowned it. Why? Because I do not know of any other way to set my heart free of its burdens. This was and always been the only means I knew since I could remember. I’ve been writing about anything since I was in grade school, scribbling anything at the back pages of my notebook and worn-out books that Mother brought back from the library. I cannot imagine myself without a pen or a paper or something to record my thoughts, my emotions, my life. I think that would be the end of me.
So please just let me. Just let me be. I have embraced this brokenness and I know how fragile I could become. How crushed I could get as I strive to live. But just let me be.