If your cup isn’t even full, do you give to others from love or fear?

Cover painting courtesy of Dylan Griggs.

The descent is painful, but the climb back is so much worse. Hell has the same path in and out.

You have to go through to accept what has occurred. For or against you.

Once you get to the top, you can take a moment to look back and admire how far you’ve come, and relish how much farther you can go. That is what makes the challenge so addictive.

I miss the girls’ nights when we were bravely foolish, jumping into delusion. But now we have to be foolishly responsible and teeter on the edge of insanity

It hurts.

It’s confusing.

And overwhelming.

I’m told my 20s are the best years of my life, but so far, these fabled “best years” have yet to make an appearance.

It’s always “Next year is going to be my year!”

But the difference between here and there is only a day apart. I watch the seconds, hours, days and years change, but I remain the same. 

Or am I trapped the same?

It starts with a feeling of wanting to take the edge off.

You turn to the medicinal and take a hit every so often or a drink at the end of a long day.

But it’s about moderation.

Control.

My psyche is always at a healthy jog.

Not too slow that I want to laze around all day,

Not too fast, I go into overdrive,

Knowing when to apply pressure and to pull away.

I never accounted for when things go wrong as I stood at the red light of the crosswalk 

Drenched in sweat from my 30-minute walk in Georgia’s summer heat. My pace had slowed, in a moment of calm in the storm, something was finally going to give.

A cloud of dread embraced me. Keeping me choked and awake

And that feeling prevailed as I stared at the disfigured face of my vehicle now a little more than scrap metal.

Front bumper hanging by a prayer, left headlight MIA, and the other winking at me through the scorching sun

As I crossed the street I wondered what drove me to feel crazier. An eight T-letter word that sums up the damage or the questionable friend who had her child in the back at the time.

Inside, hail and hellfire rained upon my heart knowing I would not get my due for this accident

One hug and an “Are you ok?”

And my needs and interests were pushed to the back again.

A betrayal of self. I fear the poets were wrong in their assertions, that loneliness is “Having nobody for my own.”

But I challenge this 

Rather, my loneliness prevailed as nobody seemed to have me,

I was more like a passing thought, an errant whisper, a spin-off. Not necessary but exists nonetheless

But time is everybody’s enemy, nobody’s friend. She continues to tick and I continue to run.

Attraction always seems to find me. 

She comes in all shapes and colors. In the literal, yellow is for friendship and red is for passion.

But attraction will have you evolve into a whole other being.  

A crush can be the worst part of attraction, or rather having to go through the emotions. 

Being vulnerable, stripped bare.

And the things I would do to get their attention. Stamped their presence into my life when I was unprepared.

The second lead in my tragic comedy. 

I welcome it at first, as a distraction, a new sensation or a part of me does while the rest resists the feeling.

Torn within my own body.

The attraction had me acting out of the ordinary.

Reading and re-reading the messages we’d shared. 

Drafting pointless questions for pointless answers 

Try but don’t seem like I’m trying too hard, then deleting the message because I’m definitely trying too hard. 

Come off strong but not too strong to scare them away.

Acting pathetic. Placating myself.

Voluntarily pushing aside the strength I so desperately hold as a shield

All my defenses down.

And I would’ve said Helen of Troy was an icon, I wanted so desperately that war that was waged for her sake.

But the only war is between my mind and heart. 

The entire storyline was yet another delusion, a farce existing only in my head.

A distraction from listening to what really matters.

But as I build upon this fairytale, the lines between reality and fiction begin to blur. 

Why does the touch feel different than before? More vibrations leave their wake on my skin in waves, goosebumps betraying stoicism. 

I begin to lose myself.

I have it bad but I fight it. 

Valiantly and violently. 

My brain works to protect me, screaming different iterations of an exasperated, “This shit again? Your attraction is never mirrored.”

A pain you have slowly come to accept but dread. The frustration builds.

Looking up new ideologies, I am trying to align my beliefs with theirs. That’s when you know it’s serious.

I crave their presence.

Sharing inconsequential details of my life. Watching from within as this new version of myself tramples all over the persona I have built. 

Flooding my mind, my identity was lost somewhere in the deep

I giggle at everything they say.

I look for flaws.

Imagine the most sinful thoughts between you and I.

I banish those thoughts, but they always come back.

Over and over and over.

Until you drive yourself mad trying NOT to make yourself any more pathetic than you’ve already been. 

I cry, anxiety circling her wicked claw around my heart, fear never far behind, always running, not knowing what from

You wake up thinking about them. Resisting the urge to text them because that’s weird and you are acquaintances at best.

I try to look nonchalant like I don’t know every detail about them available on the internet. 

I try to come off as more interesting than I actually am. I regret my awkward silence but you could sit in their silence all-day 

If only I knew what they were thinking. Anxiety squeezes.

Yelling at myself, trying to scold the feelings away, but they must run their course. 

And for several days I tortured myself, finding every possible reason under the sun why this partnership would be a horrible idea. 

Losing my mind trying to act normal in their presence. Try not to steal too many glances and definitely not get caught doing it. 

Even as my heart bounds from wall to wall. Because confessing never comes up as an option. 

All your cells move in unison rejecting the idea, as illness forms in your belly. 

Because at the end of the day, no matter how much I try to deceive, manipulate, and create visions of an ideal world and fantasies, I resign myself to the fact of the timeline, of this delusion I’d have been living in and all the signs ported to failure. 

And that is not something you are ready to accept, so you continue to pine after this person until you delude yourself out of your delusions and you’re back to square one again.

And for you bold enough to allow the feeling to flow and trust that if this is for you, it will flourish in your life, I admire your strength.

For attraction is just emotion, a tangle of thorns that haven’t found their color yet. Blooms still developing beneath the surface ready for you to discover and grow into a mysterious beautiful thing. 

Attraction is born from the love of your soul. The germinating seed, a new branch sprouting from the main body, or a new seed readying itself to show you a new world. 

Then one day it all stopped working.

I stopped. I had been yelling for so long, the sound overwhelmed my surroundings, no room for more, and fed up with not being listened to, it started to close in.

The echo of my cries weighed down on me.

Weighed me down pound for pound with each step I tried to take forward pulled me deeper into the ground

I went back to the familiar to distract myself

A momentary bubble of happiness popped before it formed

Suffocated, pressed down upon, screaming 

Curled into a ball, ears pressed tightly in my palms

I drowned in the lake of my sorrows, convinced this was my final resting place

So I gave in.

Control had long since left my roof. Only the ripped thread of her coattail was grasped firmly in my fist and as I finally let go, relaxing my tired fingers, the fibers fell and disappeared like they never existed

The pain assaults me all at once

Completely unbearable and I wanted to scream for an escape 

My body thrashed, my mind opened

Then

An ebb

Sweet reprieve

Like a whale breaking the surface of the water

A crisp breath inhaled, the first in months as a cool wave rolled over me, it felt almost too euphoric

Pain and progress went hand in hand all my life, the way forward was always paved with broken glass, a red carpet following me wherever I went as a sign of my accomplishments

But what if I just had moved, taking a step sideways onto the smooth path.

Why have I been avoiding this?

Face down on the muddy floor, I raise my head coughing up leaves and dirt

My mind spins and I get up immediately

I run

My steps are haphazard and the world revolves around me a few times and I find myself face first on the ground again

I get to my knees and look around at the empty dark space not knowing where I am or where I am going

I cry

For nothing feels right anymore

Nothing makes sense

A stranger in my own body

Unrecognizable

With unmet needs and unknown means to satisfy this hunger.

I wail

In agony, tasked with growing up and knowing what to do yet as a fledgling I fear I am premature into adulthood. 

20 becomes a checkpoint, all stats back to zero and I am once again an infant in this world

Barely able to crawl but expected to grow your wings

I sob remembering that all I cared about was hurting those who hurt me and I punished myself in the process

The price paid for punishment is the punishment of oneself

My tears dry as I remember my darkest moment.

That even when I lost everything, I somehow survived and got here

And I had no control

And it was scary to let go of the reins

And it felt like I was going to die

And it felt like no matter what I did, all I could do was dig and dig

But I realized that no matter how far down I dig, the only way to go is up

As the softest rays of the morning sun peek over the horizon, I fully take in my surroundings.

Present in the moment, the chaotic sound calms, finding the right tune.

A melody matching the vibration of my heart and soul. Warmth on my cheeks, I close my eyes. 

I imagine the life I want, the person I want to be, and realize that I already am that person. Nobody has me but I’ve always been that person for myself.

A teardrop smooths its way down my face and my eyelids flutter open.

I am awake.

I am here.

And that in itself is a blessing, is it not?