I wanted to open up the page and bleed…. but I was too tired. Every week things happened as I stepped through my days…. but I didn't post it, I didn't share, and I definitely did not mark it on the pages of the journal to be memorialized into the fabric of time. Why you ask? Because the days were exhausting and the nights were restless, I wrote you a thousand times in my mind; does that count? I documented the characters and detailed the story as the drama that it was, oh yes- it was a story… action packed with more twists and turns than you could have imagined! On the edge of your seat you would have awaited each new turn of the path– yet, no one saw or heard. They didn't read the words; nor search betweenthe lines for meaning. For, how can you search an empty page for context?
In retrospect, I wish I would have committed to a quick paragraph a day whether in bullet points or a few short lines of text. It would have helped me paint the picture that so blinds me with a stark and empty canvas now. Should I try that for you? A few short lines to detail a minuscule list of events? Ok, for the record:
- I scratched my way through multiple layers of grudge in my new position– and found out how deep the pit was; then climbed out
- Tried on some new wings – soared far enough to find a new vantage point
- Accepted being alone- labored in grief at the dark possibility that I will stay solitary on the journey
- Bolstered the courage to push my will against all odds, believing that the best of that boy was buried deep, but still a smoldering fire just waiting for oxygen.
- Got burned by the fire — several times. I tried to hold my breath, but couldn't, and my breath drew the flame
- After the fire scorched me, I stood in the rain- it was soothing even if still dark and chilly
- Helped a friend navigate life-altering changes – the struggle was epic inside me as I supported yet jealous of the changes simultaneously
- Learned to smile through tears again
- Gave up on control
- Got inspired by true friendship and rested in its peaceful radiance
- Felt passion anew – shared with no guilt or pause.
- Embraced hard moments — because they are real life
- Did not share thought by written pen– only let them ebb and flow; internal waves- never external.
Now I have written and my curiosity flares to wonder if you will beg for details or feel relief that the journey was in short version. Each bullet its own a chapter, but who will desire the detail of days weathered there? Would the strength gained in the battle perpetuate a story that brings Peace? Do your eyes desire to feast on the struggle to then validate the dark roads of your story? I am thoughtful as I gaze at a list that gives a high level hit on a few points – this story could be something rare or common to many. Time will not tell this story– only I can. No matter, for the writer never knows or feels the impact in another soul. We can never make your/my journey the standard for others- if even for a moment, as it takes grace from the story they wish to share.
So I implore: Share the Journey — it is your voice only that will narrate the steps.
