Square One

 

I was a mess last night. I did something without thinking how I'm going to take the consequences. Somehow an image of me firing a gun and unexpectedly feeling it recoil after the shot was made popped into my mind. Not only did I feel the gun recoil but I hurt myself along the way. Now, I'm sporting bruises over old wounds that apparently has never healed at all. They only festered under the healed surface. And so I'm back again to those days...

On the flip side, I now get to feel--again. I held myself back for so long because I was scared. I was scared of getting hurt. I was scared of making wrong choices. I was scared of getting broken. So I shut myself down. I became numb not knowing that the price I have to pay is my writing.

A few years ago, a friend told me that I wrote my best pieces when I was hurt. I guess he was right. I'm writing something significant again because I opened myself up to possibilities. Sure, it wasn't my idea to be like this again but I think the reason doesn't quite matter anymore. I'm back. I'm writing again. That's what's important, right?

I guess this is the time for re-learning--to re-learn how to write and to re-learn how to be alone. Going back to school, I got caught up with making new friends, doing school stuff, and so much more. I gave all my time to other people and I got used to it. So when the time came that I was alone, I craved people. I have to be surrounded with friends or else I become restless--just like what happened last night after I came home. It was just this morning that I realized what the real problem was. Now I feel like an addict who knows that getting a fix is bad but can't do anything to counter his addiction. But hey, knowing and realizing what the problem is is the first step, right? It won't be easy, I know. The road is just going to get steeper from here but the rule book doesn't say you can't take baby steps. What matters is not stopping from here on out.