I found out today that I'm not a narcissist. They called me that and I thought it was something unique and rare. Something to be stared, examined, and discarded. Neither was I a monster, not mystical being driven by some cosmic force unleashing destructive purpose as Karma's Rottweiler, sitting at her feet waiting for her next command, to attack. But instead, I found out I was simply broken, re-wired for pain. Wired like the rest of us. Wired by our first experience with love. Saddening and pitiful.
I marched right up to her with my shiny, young eager self. My gears turning in a musical hum, ready to love, smiling ear to ear. She looked at my ignorant heart ready to love infinitely like a child, and she poured her glob of darkness all over it, and rusted it shut. She fused my mouth shut so I couldn't tell anyone what was wrong with me. All I became was attracted to hollowness and gears that couldn't work to save me. Stuck. I couldn't move my feet to walk away. I couldn't open my mouth to say help me.
I was nothing special anymore, just another hurt person hurting people. A self encased prison, bewitched to never give the love I want to give, or ask for what I need. Forced to chase empty victories and reset, only to chase the exact same emptiness again and again. I challenged Sisyphus, and even earned his awe.
How do I get this rust off? Will I ever be shiny and new? Will I ever see the love I want and go after it? For now I remain cursed and rusted. But at least I'm aware now. A slow awakening it seems. No plan yet but I will see what happens. Maybe my friendship with Sisyphus won't last and he will forget me. Maybe I get to touch my dream one day. Maybe one day, I'll forgive myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment