Sometimes I feel empty. Unable to respond to anyone’s needs
and meet any expectations. These are times when I feel completely defeated. Like
I have been fighting battles with consequences that didn’t even matter. I look
around seeking familiarity, but know that it wouldn’t make much of a difference.
I feel I’ve been rescuing myself so long, it has become more about survival than
living.
I was one, then became two and finally diverged into many. Bits
and pieces scattered with no control. Invested in unsaid promises and expectedly
moving on. The journey appearing meaningful one minute and completely unnecessary
next.
And so, with time and age, I have learned to separate. Be a
part, yet own self. It is not easy, but it has helped. Helped to understand that
in the end, it will all revert to I. And so, to keep it all together, to make
it meaningful, to keep it real, but most of all to live, it is important to
keep oneself alive.
Losing self will never fill a void and survival isn’t happiness.
