Sunday, 6 July 2014

The Ivory Tower

I've always known my own mind and it's something I've only ever thought of as an asset.

Having a clear sense of right and wrong, what you should and shouldn't do, and how things work and fall apart can leave you thinking you have it all figured out. In a world of uncertainty, it can be comforting to lean on your belief system to make sense of your life.

I had only ever thought of it as an asset. I had never given much thought to how rigid it makes me; how it takes my streak of stubbornness and smears it over the whole canvas. I hadn't really considered how it can be a hindrance.

                                             

I'm not an easy person to love. I suppose none of us really are, we have quirks and traits that don't always allow themselves to another. But I know that I can be especially difficult.

I can be fixed in my ways. I can be demanding. I have the soul of a sentimental poet, with the actions of an ice block. I form emotional attachments but maintain walls which scream "Do Not Enter". I'll take a chance - then talk myself into nipping it at the source, not allowing it time to bloom. I'm a walking contradiction, an unfathomable question.

Being so sure of your mind results in analyzing situations with your head, and not your heart. You take considerations of all the factors, except the ones that matter the most - feelings.

It means that when someone hurts me, they quickly find themselves being pointed towards "Exit". If someone messes up, I take the moral high-ground. If creating distance is a skill, I have it down to an art. It is a testament to those close to me that they have stayed, and loved me, even when I actively encouraged them not to.

It was everything and nothing which made me realise this today. I was sitting on the bus, listening to some music, looking at the rain as it fell down by the bucket-load - and thought, I don't know how I feel. It was that sudden, that simple.

I've spent so long guiding myself by logic and logic alone, that I forgot to ask how I feel - about fighting with my sister, about possible romance, about the people in my life. I'm not hard, but I've become hardened. At some point along the line, I not only decided nothing in this world was ever going to break my heart again, but that I wasn't going to give anything a chance to.

It's such a self-destructive way to be. People are not meant to live, sealed in a vacuum, removed from anything that could potentially hurt them. It's not good enough to put on your runners and stand at the start line - you have to throw yourself into the race.

The rest of the journey was spent hypothesizing a lot of "What If...". What if I had listened to them talking? What if I hadn't been so cold? What if I did that for all the wrong reasons? What if I deceived myself into thinking I was doing the right thing? What if I ended it because I was scared? What if that was it - and I ran away?  

The questions form a song in my head that writes new choruses and bridges; the beats and tempo changing as it skits from situations, to people, and back again in a loop. The song keeps playing and I'm spinning in a dance, but I'm unsure of the steps and everything is so very blurred.

I don't have the answers right now. Only queries and confusion.

Mucho Love,

Vicky xoxo
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