I Always Pull Out Last Minute.

I always pull out last minute. I really just wait till I get to the eleventh hour before I cancel schedules I have had the powers to cancel eons ago. It doesn’t help that I have crippling anxiety threatening to jeopardize the framework of my being. Or that nobody seems to understand this even though they all claim to do. Every last minute, centuries after I have made conscious plans in my head, I always pull out, last minute. This is who I am.

I feel proud to an extent that I am well able to talk about this. But not in the way I would have loved to hold this discourse. Yet I understand the need to put up this disclaimer. Because it often paints me on a crinkled canvas to be a terribly insensitive person. Rather than someone who’s being coerced into the very captivity of anxiety.

Look anxiety will change your life. Make you become the person you swore you would never be. And there is nothing you will be able to do about it. You will just sit watching casually. Your life play out before a large screen that is really just your eyes; kamikazing in unidentifiable alter egos. And then you will respond to the subpoena of anxiety that now owns you in totality, proselytizing you to abandon your beliefs and follow hers and you will follow.

Everything you once thought you conquered you will submit to. All the fears you never believed you could have, you will birth. The level of subterfuge you always argued would never work on you will grow on you and you will croon to its lordship. You will submit to its will.

You will make plans, like I usually do, to meet up with an old friend, a co-worker and acquaintance, an anything, a something that means anything and you will pull out last minute.

You will really just wait till you get to the eleventh hour before you cancel schedules you would have had the powers to cancel eons ago. It wouldn’t help that you would have crippling anxiety threatening to jeopardize the framework of your being. Or that nobody seems to understand this even though they all claim to do. Every last minute, centuries after you have made conscious plans in your head, you will pull out, last minute. It wasn’t who you were but it is now.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.