As I sit in this bed. The bed I had made myself. With new choices. And different outcomes. The excitement of beginnings coming now at a bearable repetition as I walk my feet down the warming pavement home. But as I lay on this bed. My own bed. I made myself. I am paralyzed. In fear. Fear I haven't felt in so very long. I had crafted and pottered walls and stairs and tree houses inside myself and all of a sudden I decided to collapse a wall or two. And let someone else climb the stairs with me or climb that tree and stare out of the window I created to remind me of what is around.
Me. See I had forgotten the fear of vulnerability. Because I stopped being vulnerable. Me and vulnerability have had a tumultuous love affair. I used to give it away unearned. I used to play and dance and sing carpe deim at the top of my lungs. Because the acceleration was always worth it. The addiction to the beginning of things as I float above myself but not for long. Until it stopped. Being worth it. And I stopped playing. With others. Instead. I became good at playing solitaire. And standing as a party of one on my mat of yoga. And building my life in ways I could grow with new walls and foundations and the final piece of my tree house with its swing. I didn’t need anyone to come play with me. Or I did. But I was waiting for someone who would stay a little bit longer. Someone I might walk with before running in a race to no where.
And as I lay in this bed. I had forgotten how scared I am. I am of the real thing. Because being alone. Became easier. No one got hurt in my own world created by myself. But now. As I lay and watch the ocean descend out to beyond I can ever see. I know the fear. Is tied to the ship of all what has happened before. I am still tied to the past of all the disappointments-all the falling on my face-all the wishing things can be different- all the I slept with someone else or im getting back with my x-girlfriend or I don't love you anymore or it will be cool to break up you with double parked or on myspace or entirely flake out. The rope is tied around me pulling me to sea to that boat. I am its anchor. The past failures and the past of me trying hard sometimes with the wrong people-sometimes- with the right magnets me out of this bed into the sand of the shore. I am tied to this past. In ways I had forgotten.
And all the therapy in the world and the success I have been lucky to have can ever erase that boats existence. Its not just the failed love. Its the failed relationship of a mother. Her leaving and never coming back. Her not ever getting the help she needed so that I could know her. Again. That is the heaviest. In the ship they all reside. The rope pulling me closer to the water. I drag my feet begging for the past not to matter. Pleading that I can create my own destiny. That I do not need to be tied with what was. I am not that person anymore.
I stop. And the knot around my waist was done by me and it could be undone. And as I begin to unknot it. Slowly. There is a pause. Can I let this rope go and still be me? I am still me. And as I stand on these rocks multiplied into a beach and stare at the water that goes beyond where I can see and where I can dream. I drop the rope. And watch the boat- it doesn't move quickly or abruptly. Its still there. But I don't have to be tied to the past as I once was.
I had forgotten about that ship. I had forgotten until I remembered that I had tied myself to it. Because of the fear of it. Of getting hurt so great. Of it working out so great. That I had to remember. Remember that I can watch it from the horizon but I am no longer controlled by it. The ship bobs up and down. I stand there for a moment. Until I feel my feet firmly in the moistness foundation of strong sand below- the waves coming in to welcome me home again. And I begin to move. Again.
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