Monday, April 29, 2013

Conversations


I picture conversations in my mind, conversations that I want to have with others, questions that I need to ask. The other side of the conversations is the answers I want to hear. Of course, they are answers I am not likely to get if I were to get the opportunity to ask those questions. On some conversations, I doubt I would get honest answers. On other conversations, the answers are not likely to be what I am hoping for simply because men and women think differently.

I have so many questions I want to ask, but don’t feel I can, or don’t have the opportunity. For one conversation in particular, I cannot imagine getting answers that I want, but I worry and wonder all the time, so I've imagined asking the questions many times in my mind. I want the answers to be about me, but in truth I don’t believe they will be. So I go around and around, and I worry about things I have little to no control over. 

Ships


You can be alone and not be lonely. You can be lonely and not be alone. To be both can be crushing. Left alone with your thoughts, your mind starts spinning, thinking of all the things that have happened recently, wondering what you did wrong, wondering what you could have done better, regretting words or actions, wondering what others think of you, wondering if anyone even notices when things aren't okay. You want others to notice. You want to know that you aren't alone in the darkness. You want to know that someone is there for you should you need them. You want to have that comfort, and yet, it isn't always there.

For others, you are a ship passing on the sea of their life, your light barely shining to signal you are there, your distress signals unnoticed. In your world, your ship is sinking. In their world, you’re a ripple on the water, hidden by the waves. The ship closest to you throws out a lifeline, and it helps. It isn't always enough. Despite the efforts, your ship is still sinking. You know that line is secure, but in your heart, it isn't enough to hold you up, and you are barely managing to tread water. You haven’t drowned yet, but you feel that you will, and the current drags at you, beckoning into the darkness. You know that isn't where you belong, but it is so hard to resist that current. As you sink, the ship attached to your lifeline starts to sink, as well, and because of it, the current spins faster. If you are lucky, you manage to get free of the current, but it is always there, threatening to pull you back. Sometimes, it grabs you, and though you may only be caught on the edges, even your lifeline isn't enough to pull you completely away. You have to swim to do that, but you can’t. The ability is hidden deep inside you, and you don’t know where to find it.

I managed to get out of the current, but I am still caught at the edges, riding the waves of emotion, wondering if I will ever be able to break free.