Fight or flight

I’m struggling and I don’t like it. Feeling broken for love’s sake has become foreign to me. If I don’t think, if I skim only the surface of my being, I’m fine. But then I start digging, reflecting, digesting. And then I realize my life in its ephemeral eternity and how absolutely unfamiliar I am with it. I want to crawl into myself. I want nothing to do with the experiences I’ve brought upon myself. I want out, to escape through the trap door and hope no one notices that I’ve failed to find the deeper parts of me I’ve been searching for for over 5 years.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this way — the urgency that loneliness is necessary. That I must grow into myself. That though I feel wise in some ways, I am foolish in so many others. I brought this upon myself, and upon you. I feel that I am in battle, doing my best to push through. I hold my sword. I’ve stepped out into the field, into the thick of warriors. I swing my sword, and I find that it is heavier than expected. I’m not accustomed to fighting.

But I will fight, and I will do what I can with what I have and I will know that I have done what I need to when the battle is over. I cannot know the outcome, I can only hope that I am ready for this hardship ahead. It is hard and unforgiving terrain.