“Now I lay me down to sleep”…
The dichotomy rages inside of me, sometimes subtle but sometimes eating away at the core of me until I don’t know whether I am coming or going. I’ve made and continue to make these decisions that are good for me, mentally that is. With swift “justice”, I cut people out of my life right and left, all the while convinced that it’s best for me and my continued search for self-preservation. People that once meant everything to me now lay bloodied on the floor as I walk past their bodies. I tightly close my eyes and refuse to notice the destruction that I may have caused while fighting my own battles. Others reach up to me, calling my name but I can’t hear them because it’s all I can do to survive. Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose. I keep moving forward. I keep making the “right” decisions for MYSELF at all costs. All that matters is that when my head hits the pillow at the end of the day, my conscience is clear and I am able to sleep.
“I pray the Lord my soul to keep”…
Despite the wasteland of time forgotten, my dreams sometimes speak to me of a peace I’ve not yet known. They come to me, willing to forgive me for whatever transgressions, be they large or small. The good dreams are filled with forgiveness and love like I’ve never known. You see, I don’t think that anyone in my entire life has ever forgiven me for the worst actions I’ve taken or the deepest hurts I’ve caused. Not really. If anyone comes close, it’s K because she does get me and I think that once upon a time her heart felt as destructive as mine once did,
you know…before she figured it all out. It’s an incredibly hurtful burden to carry, in case you don’t know that. Not ever having been forgiven by anyone, not truly. It makes you feel as if you’re damaged from the inside out and that absolutely nothing you do to try and change yourself will ever bring a true sense of love or peace because clearly, your imperfections are so terrible that they can’t be forgotten. Not forgiven…forgotten. When people ask me if I believe in Jesus, this is what I tell them…”Someone died for my sins. When the pain is too unbearable and I can’t even forgive myself? There he is and I do pray to him to make it all better tomorrow, even if just a little bit.” I’m sure that people with different faiths can even understand that.
“If I should die before I wake”…
But what of all this self-preservation and steps taken in order to shield myself from the deepest pains that I know? What the hell kind of legacy do I want to leave when I go? Do I want to leave this world with all of these unsaid things that cling to my heart like barnacles hardened on the bottom of a boat? Were I to fall asleep tonight and never wake up, how many people would know how I actually felt about them? Moreover, how much would I know about how others felt about me? How often do I run from conversations because I hate talking on the phone? How many nights do I sit thinking of things that I should say to you…in my head? How can I reconcile all those things I do every day that give me that illusion of finding perfect sleep when really, it takes an army of anti-anxiety medications to even slightly move me towards slumber’s direction? Would you know that I loved you with every single fiber of my soul? Would you know that you meant the world to me or that you made me smile or that you broke my heart and even though I walked away, I missed you every second of every day? You wouldn’t know because these are things we’re taught not to say. We are taught to be strong and look forward. We’re supposed to look towards the future and create new feelings and new friendships, lovers, husbands, wives, and everything is supposed to move on as if we didn’t just leave something behind us standing still, waving from the shore as we sailed off somewhere new.
“I pray the Lord my soul to take”…
I simply cannot cry anymore without knowing what to do in order to fix it. To you…I want to say I’m sorry, but I’m scared of looking weak in others’ eyes, even yours. And to precious you…I want to tell you that I’d do anything to be the same girl you fell in love with twenty years ago, or at least to help open your eyes to the fact that we all change, for better or for worse. To my Mom…I want to give you a better daughter. To you…I want you to know that you’re my best friend no matter how little we see each other and that will never change. To the bitches, who shall remain nameless, who have either annoyed me to death or broken my heart, I forgive you. To the boys who have played me like a fiddle when they thought I wasn’t looking therefore also breaking my heart, I forgive you too.
And to you, Dear Jess (yes, that’s me)…I forgive you too. I forgive you for your weaknesses, your mistakes, your lies, your venom, your imperfections, your food issues, your need to be nosy, your penchant for pushing people away and the fact that you’ve made more mistakes in one year than some do in one lifetime. I truly forgive you. Maybe one day, someone else will too and they’ll honest to God mean it but until then, I pray the Lord my soul to take. And to forgive. And to mold. And whatever else comes.
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