Yesterday, I made a very tough decision.
I love writing. It's my thing, it's what I know best, it's what makes me happy. It's the only way I know to emote. Things I can't say, things I won't say, things I don't say... Once they're on paper, they don't seem quite as terrifying as before. Writing gives me strength--to accept my feelings and deal with them.
So I like calling myself a writer.
And like every other self-proclaimed writer, I sometimes think I'm the cat's whiskers. On the good days, when I'm able to drive every other thought from my mind, I dream my childhood dream. I see a book in my favourite book store. I don't know what that book is, I can't read the title, I can't see the cover, but I can see the name of the author. It's mine.
I see copies of this book flying off the shelves, I see people smiling as they read it in coffee shops. I see the book making someone feel better. I see the book saying things that someone somewhere can't find the right words for. It wasn't a big dream but it was something to hold on to when I was sad, something that kept darkness from filling up my heart entirely...
For as long as I can remember, this has been my dream. A few weeks ago, I found myself on the first rung of the ladder that would take me to it. There was a chance, a good one at that, of the dream coming true. I was so excited, I wanted to stand on the terrace of a really really tall building and shout out to the world. I thought nothing could stop me now.
Except, there is something that is stopping me.
Last week I finished writing the most important chapter in my book. It was the thought that had been burning in my mind and heart for a long long time. The volcano that had been building up for almost three months found release in my book. And so I vomited out all the poison I had in me. I didn't even realise how much hatred I’d kept locked away in my heart till I read what I wrote. I hate someone from every fibre of my being, and it was showing.
I thought I'd feel better after I'd written it. It was supposed to be a healing process, a kind of catharsis. But things have changed this week. I realised that the hate was just one part of a much larger picture. There were so many more ways in which I had been affected... So many more wounds that needed to heal before I could hope to become my former self again...
I thought that if I focused on the anger, if I refused to acknowledge the devastating pain, I'd be okay. I thought I was protecting myself, but it didn't work out like that... Anyway, yesterday when I read what I'd written, I wanted to cry. It's not that it wasn't good; on the contrary, it is probably my best work to date, but it's just not me.
I've never been a hateful person. Bitchy, yes, but never this cynical. I used to believe in goodness, in love, in friendship... The person who wrote the chapter did not. This person is cynical, jaded and hell-bent on seeking revenge. This person doesn't trust anyone--not even herself. It terrifies me when I look into the mirror and see what I've become. And it makes me angry that this change is mine by default. That I didn't choose it...
But something Mr M said to me made me realise that I may not have had a say in what I've become, but I do have a say in what I do with the knowledge... So I've made a decision. I've chosen to keep my dream safe from the person who's made me the monster that I am today. She's robbed my happiness, my respect and my dignity, but I won't let her rob me of my dream.
My dream was supposed to give me joy, it was to be a memory that I can cherish forever... But the person I am today is not the person who saw this dream. Things have changed. I have changed. I don't know if I'll ever be that girl again, but I know I have to try. Because I can't let her become a part of my dream, or my life, forever... I have to try because unless I do, we’re going to be inextricably linked to each other for life. I can’t let that happen…
So I've put the dream on hold. Just until I find myself... Just until this cloud of hurt lifts... Just until M stops seeing the haunted look he sees in my eyes... Until then, I’ll keep my dream safe in its special box.
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