I almost forgot

I almost didn’t remember what it was all about. For a moment, I seemed to have lost the focus of my vision. Only for a split second, I was looking elsewhere and almost didn’t remember what it was that I was supposed to feel. I thought myself lost and rekindled with the newfound meaning, the newly discovered truth that I need to hang onto to keep myself sane. I realised that whilst I was resting my eyes on pastures more green, I was loosing sight of what I had built for myself. I looked into the distant horizon and was almost screaming from the uncertainty of a winding road ahead of me. I lost the one thing that I had made sure stayed with me for stability. That dream, that idea, that nurturing thought of a future so securely fastened to unreality.

But the image that needs to hang above my eyes for guidance and counselling, is no other than the image of a woman superior in mind and talent to the one I’m likely to grow into. The balloon that I’m desperately trying to catch seems to be filled with helium and flies ever higher. In it there’s a woman who I long to be. She is smart and sophisticated, talented and strong. She’s the kind of woman who through an immense amount of sincerity and sensitivity comes out head strong and vigilant after the many fights for her freedom. She’s independent and she lives for what she loves and what she loves is what she aims for. There is nobody she needs. Men accompany her on her journey not out of some sense of duty or because of a helpless cry she whimpers at the dead of night, but because she chooses to tolerate them. They neither add nor take away from her. They are merely fellow travellers who share a path at one point or another. Love is what keeps her from tipping over the edge. Her heart finds love wherever she goes: support from friends who become rocks so she can build on them. No fickle emotion can ever be good enough to take a place in her heart. This is do…or die.

Still, my unhappiness like Bukowski’s widow haunts each empty seat on the Ferris wheel. I’m always content and have become really good acting like I live on the golden middle ground, but the truth could not be further from reality. If I am the most balanced individual on the face of this planet, then we need more court jesters like myself. My inside is gasping with holes. My inner simplicity is tangled with the confused nature of a woman in a crisis. I am neither lonely nor surrounded by crowds. I am neither happy nor wearing a crown of gloom. What I am is simply lost. I am a soul that chose the path of uncertainty. I’ve left the One when I realised I could get away with not keeping in touch. He will surely want to have a long chat before He lets me in to his heavenly abode. I will regret every unwhispered prayer. I will regret every unopened page in His Book. I will regret every malicious thought; still He’s a friend I neglect.

I was looking too closely. I almost lost sight of the future I want to have. Just some ideas to share. Just an apartment to have. Just the single word of a man blinded by the desire to change.

I will be all right. I’ll be better than all right. One day I will have the independence. I will have my words to share. I will have coherency and I may even get to be the woman I so desperately wish to be.