I feel
heavy. In my chest. In my heart.
You know the
kind of feeling that weighs you down. Gets your heart beating hard. The spasmatic
(and that’s a word) throbbing of sorts within the chest. Unsure, anxious, not
knowing what you suddenly feel so desperate about.
Definitely not
the first time. But I hadn’t felt this way in a long time.
Sometimes, I
think I know what I want. I think I know how I feel. Like it’s in my power to
feel happy or sad. And I choose to be happy.
And then
moments like these, make me wonder if that’s the real me? Is that the real
feeling I am feeling? Or is it something I CHOOSE to feel as.
Oh Jesus, this
is puzzling.
It’s no easy
deal being your own self. Being you. Being ME.
Yes, you are
looking at someone who thinks he knows what he wants from life. But do I really?
There’s this
YOU. That you want to be. And there’s this, another you, who you actually are. And
then there’s this constant conflict between these two YOU. Trying to rise above
each other.
And you
often go with who you want to be. Leaving the actual you neglected, unattended,
disposed off to some dark dungeons in your mind. Free to wander aimlessly and
heap up the already unacknowledged YOU. Until it finally decides to break free from
the darkness and see light of the day.
I am feeling
that moment right now. The moment of actual ME.
But I’m just
not yet ready to perceive the actual ME. What scares me; what depresses me; what
angers me; what hurts me; what drives me crazy; and what kills me just a little
more (knowingly or unknowingly).
It’s as much
frightening as relieving to come to terms with your actual self. The anger that’s
been undercurrent, the pain that's been thriving deep in, the sadness that’s been
slithering quietly beneath you.
As much as
you’d love to have 365 sunny days, we can’t ignore the rains. Can we now?
I haven’t
cried in years. I feel like I want to. Have I been neglecting what’s being
bottled up for years now?
Not crying out
can do more harm than good. I’m trying my best to cry but it’s not happening. It
feels stuck. Maybe that’s why it’s heavy in the chest.
Cry. Yeah sure
it will make you look weak in your eyes, make you reflect emotional through
your rationality looking glass. But at least it’ll ease the pain. Lighten up a
bit. And perhaps wash away the cosmetics of ASSUMED YOU.
It will take
deeper digging into me to help free the crying flow.
The present needs
as much YOU as your past. So remember the past but also don’t forget the
present.
In the
constant race of I’d-Like-To-Be there’s also the I-Am-The-Me pacing sideways
with you. And both will have to run side-by-side.
The surface
is all shiny and gold. One scrape and you’ll start to uncover a near-you.
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