Too much time has passed to save her.
All that’s left is a hollow
Right here in my chest.
I miss her – the fun we used to have –
The realness & fullness between us –
Ripe, like summer fruit.
The juice drips as I take a bite
And taste the flavor – remembering her.
All that’s left is an image of a scared
Girl in a box, trapped – cowering down as
The walls move inward to flatten her
New world. I can’t reach her, try as I might
To lift her out – to tell her (convince her) none
Of it matters – it’s not real. But I can’t get
To her. The walls are too thick – she
Can’t hear me above her own pain.
Fifteen years is a long time to wait to wake up.
The scariest part is I think she may
Still be asleep, not realizing she’s not a
Scared kid anymore &
The four walls of high school are
Never coming back.
I am a writer. I am brave. I am beautiful. I am scared. I am not fearless. Anyone who says so is a liar. The first step towards growth is admitting there is fear, admitting you are scared. But I can stay here, in this fear, or I can step forward. I may drag fear with me-the path out could be longer than I’d like to imagine, but at least I’d be moving forward and not dismally backwards, or tragically stagnant.
People are scared. They are scared shitless. WE can make this for something. We can create good from this. Give it back. Give all of it back. All the fear you feel, all the bravery you’ve known, all the love that creates, take that up inside you and pour it back out. So people know they are not alone.
Sharing can be scary.
The boy waddled over to his friend on the playground, a half-eaten animal cracker in his hand. He smiled awkwardly at the other child who had his hands full of sand from the sandbox.
The sand monster looked up from his castle, eyeing the half cracker and licking his lips.
The first boy turned back to make sure his mother was nearby and then reached out a slobbery hand, “Wanna a cracker?”
The waiting was intense. He had never felt his breath catch so easily before, and the growing thud in his chest was a new sensation.
The sand monster dropped his sand, “Sure.” He tentatively took the soggy cracker and popped it into his mouth.
“Wanna help me build a castle?”
From our very first attempt at sharing to our thousandth attempt, fear comes with the territory. There is the fear of rejection (obviously), the fear of not getting it right, the fear of too little too late (holding back only to regret it later), just to mention a few. These thoughts are all legitimate. Each of those could happen. We could be rejected, we could try to produce a result and just plain fail at our intent, and we could give 10% towards a task instead of 100% and then regret our “one foot in, one foot out,” mentality later.
Let’s be honest; all of us will try and fail; all of us will face rejection, and all of us will scold ourselves for not giving our all. But we will also learn from ourselves. We will learn that if we let fear control our thoughts and actions, we aren’t really living. We will learn that the feeling of fear will dissipate with practice and time. We will learn that we bind ourselves more than anyone else does, and it’s up to us to decide what to do next.
I’ve decided to believe in my voice through writing. I’ve decided to share parts of myself that I’ve not shared before.
Now it’s your turn. Please let me know what fear has been holding you back and your plan on turning that fear around. Let me know what you’re choosing to share.