“I’m only HUMAN!” we cry, in a moment of belting agony.
Because sometimes when the darkness of the world seems to be encroaching upon us, we hope that just yelling loud enough will draw the pain back a little.
When it doesn’t seem to work, we fall against the dream that our cry would have at least frightened a friend enough to grab their attention. As we stand stripped down to our bare, scarred, disfigured human before them we expect them to adorn their Clark Kent best and turn into our superhero.
That didn’t exactly happen though, did it?
Which made the pitch black night fall even faster upon you.
They weren’t the fair weather ones, you sieved through those a long time ago. These were the ones who picked up your broken pieces and weaved you together with their love. But when your pruned will to carpe diem is met with a cold, trite platitude, the seams loosen and you stand before yourself, undone.
Had I loved to a point where my love for other people defined who I am? Had I loved to a point where I desecrated the love I had for myself with the love I had for others? I used to think that it was all a part of the same love but I realized that I was wrong. If it was, I would not be here today undone, not knowing how to go on because I can’t give up on people I love.
I’ve never been someone who has known how to give up on people. Even when they hurt me and I hurt them back, I cling on to that stranded little part of my brain that tells me that they would never confuse my love which is so pristine with the flawed container of my human. Everyone will return someday, I’d say to myself, and I will be complete.
But why did I need other people to be complete? Why did I need someone to validate my pain, and through it my existence to know that it was real? Wasn’t it real enough by me just feeling it and living it? And yet, there I stood, hoping that there would be just one person who could stop and listen to me. Just one person who could understand what I was feeling. Just one person who could make me feel like I really mattered.
We all often ask ourselves if we really matter. If we were not here, if we were gone, would anyone really care? Would anyone’s life really be any different? Most importantly, is anyone’s life different because we are actually here, living, breathing, kicking? I understood that although I am often disappointed by the outcome of this train of thought, it doesn’t mean that I don’t matter to people, or that they don’t matter to me.
Because we are all nothing but pictures we try to paint. How you see me will never be how I see myself, you will never see the picture just as I envisioned it to be created. You will never really, truly, completely understand me and I will never wholly know you. How then can we be perfect mates to each other?
We are humans, and we are not programmed to be perfect mates to each other. You are not perfect in my vision and I am not perfect in yours and together, we will not be a perfect whole. You feel alone, and I feel alone and you think that that would make us feel as though we are not alone, but it doesn’t, does it? We are blemished souls and there will always be spaces between us. There will always be spaces between our loves.
I came to realize that I matter in a way I will never fully be able to comprehend. I matter from a perception I can’t even see.
And once you realize this, it only remains a question of if you still want to walk away. You know full well that if you do, you won’t be missed the way you hope to be. And if you choose to stay on, it will be a decision made knowing that you can live without it just as fine.
I’ve understood that while loving to absolution will always be a given with me, loving to obsoletion is a point that I could step back before. Because all our loves are a little crazy, but they aren’t crazy together. They don’t spark up and light the city with their fireworks unlike what those tunes on our playlist sing to us. When they do spark up, they simply burn a little bit of your heart and die a violent death within you.
So step back before you get burnt because I promise you that you will need every bit of your heart to live the rest of this insanity that we call life.