people say it gets better. i wish i could believe them (even if it were true, how can the future help me live at the present?). on what basis can i believe this? based on their lives? what’s theirs is not mine. and the truth is, for some people, things don’t get better. then, to believe on the basis that i wish it were true? because i need to? is that fine? i have no answer. and, i digress.
i’ve tried and i’ve loved with every drop of me, and it left me empty and wanting. i got scared, so i stopped for awhile. but i was still empty and wanting.
i did just say, “how can the future help me live at the present?”. to that, my answer is that it doesn’t. that said, i want to be able to believe in better things someday. but that’s just not where i’m at.
so to work with what i’ve got, suppose things don’t get better. whether i try furiously or lay down in futility, let’s say it all ends up the same. i think, then...i still need to try. both will leave me aching, i know. but at least trying can be fun sometimes.
so let these words be a bookmark in my life. i’d like to imagine planting a tree in this place. one day, i’ll be able to look back and understand where i’ve gone since. or perhaps i’ll return, me with the same sorrows...or perhaps with new hurts to match (no -- certainly, there will be more). and the tree, several rings richer and fingers more knotted than before, will greet me with arms stretched wide. i’ll see it and remember that i’ve been here before. i’ve been here before, and i lived. i lived through it.
germansingergirl
snowghoul
areudirty
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline
gracieabrams
