I’ve been a child. A 34-year-old child.
When I actually was a child, I was taught that sticking your nose in the air and ‘not showing people you’re bothered’ was the golden key to eternal happiness. Didn’t work for them, though…
…and it’s not working for me.
My knee-jerk reaction when faced with something that threatens my ego has always been to retreat into my cave called Aloof. It’s safe in there but the walls are hard and slimy. I can’t climb out easily and people don’t much like to come to visit me there. I wouldn’t let them in anyway, in case they saw the state of my walls. The roof in Aloof isn’t one anyone would want to be under for long. Yet I spent years clinging to it as my only option. Don’t show them you care. Don’t show them. Trust nobody.
My walls are in reality now crumbling. The pain and exposure made me hurt and howl for days yet slowly I’m finally becoming me.
Years ago I drew a caterpillar card as a shaman animal guide. I didn’t know a chrysalis was so unyielding. I couldn’t have imagined what would be necessary to break me.
Broken I am and shining in the remnants.
I’m open and I’m me and I can’t help it.
Not in a fuck-you way.
In an love-you way.
If I love I love.
If she doesn’t she doesn’t.
If she does she does.
If she will she will.
I can wait.
I can also live.
Tonight I saw that film Boyhood
Just as I’m taking my first steps into adulthood.