I needed you, but not in
the way our friends seem to think I did. I was broken and blue and I had
nothing to look forward to. I thought I wanted you, but we soon realized that
wasn’t the case.
I didn’t want you, but I did need you.
I knew the journey from
Rock Bottom to Bikini Bottom wouldn’t be easy, but I never imagined I’d have to
venture the whole way single-handedly...literally and figuratively.
I couldn't do it alone. I needed a boost. I
needed hope. I needed a role model.
I’ve never met anyone
with whom I’ve have so much in common. You and I are so much alike. Scarily
alike. Eerily alike. It’s unnerving to the point where I don’t even enjoy being
around you.
Although back when, when
I needed you, that was all I wanted. You were so positive, so
friendly, and so driven. You were kind. You listened to me when I spoke and you'd remember what I'd tell you. You used your intelligence in ways that made sense to
me. Your creativity was a tool you used productively, and you weren’t afraid to be
expulsive about it.
Why
couldn’t I do that?
I think I knew all along
that getting to where I wanted to be was a choice within me, but part of me didn’t
really care to find out. Everything I had worked my whole life to accomplish was
gone, and so I didn’t want to try anymore.
In my adolescence, I had
been a lively and imaginative person, bursting with creativity and inspiration. I
thought that part of me had passed though. I’d written her off as immature and outlandish. I thought the “newer”, more “mature” me was quiet and reserved and…
Afraid…I was
terrified to be me. I didn’t think being myself had done me or anyone any good, and so I was afraid
to try again. I was scared of myself and of people in general. I had more than a
lot of stuff to figure out, but I didn’t want to try. I was tired and
emotionally ravaged.
But you? You laughed at
failure. You waived at tomorrow. You shook hands with slim chance before
charming it over.
If we were so much alike
in every other way, why couldn’t I be like that too? Why did I have to be so
downtrodden?
I know you didn’t
understand what was happening at the time. I don’t blame you at all for
resenting me for the way I acted. I’m ashamed of myself for it. I’ve never been so embarrassed
about anything in my life. Never before had I acted the way I did, and I wasn't okay with it.
I didn’t like that side
of me, and I didn’t like where I was in life. But changing those things was MY CHOICE,
was it not?
Anger? Muse? Dead
weight? Compassion? Choose the avenue wisely.
And with that, I begin
my second novel.
