She had failed. There was no other way to say it. Despite all of her accomplishments, all of the honours that people attributed to her, she had failed at the things that mattered most, and no amount of humour, self-deprecating or not, could change that fact.
For years she'd hid behind her staged smile and her enticing humour. She had worked hard at the tasks that had clear beginnings and endings and could be accomplished by mortals. She dreamed of being more, of doing more, of meaning more. Yet, when opportunities presented themselves, she failed to live up to the possibilities.
People. That was the part of life that she had failed. She had failed to truly care about or for people. Caring led to pain. Caring meant investing in another person, only to have that person reject all that had been invested into them. It was easier not to care, to create a safe distance so as not to get hurt. It was easy for Her to do. Like a switch that she could flick on and off, she could care or not care. It was a useful tool that allowed her to be brave when logic suggested she be scared. It protected her and allowed her to interact with people who were difficult to care for. But, it had also cost her.
It was while sitting in the dark, in a room that whispered her strengths and weaknesses with each item in that room, that she felt the weight of her failure. She was uncertain that she could or would ever change but she wanted to. She wanted to be for others what so few had been for her. She wanted to make people laugh, to see the joy in life and the hilarity in plans gone awry. She wanted to invest in someone, in something, in anything, and laugh with the ease of someone who embraces everything that comes with drawing breath.
In the darkness, the comforting stillness that can only be achieved in the late and early hours when most people are deep in slumber, She could feel possibilities emerge. The sun, the bright light of day, might obliterate the peace she felt, burning her hopes to a weight like a roast left in a hot oven all night. There was always this possibility when the sun rose but, with each night She knew that the stillness of night could, once again, speak peace to her troubled mind. And in that peace, new dreams could be dreamt.
For years she'd hid behind her staged smile and her enticing humour. She had worked hard at the tasks that had clear beginnings and endings and could be accomplished by mortals. She dreamed of being more, of doing more, of meaning more. Yet, when opportunities presented themselves, she failed to live up to the possibilities.
People. That was the part of life that she had failed. She had failed to truly care about or for people. Caring led to pain. Caring meant investing in another person, only to have that person reject all that had been invested into them. It was easier not to care, to create a safe distance so as not to get hurt. It was easy for Her to do. Like a switch that she could flick on and off, she could care or not care. It was a useful tool that allowed her to be brave when logic suggested she be scared. It protected her and allowed her to interact with people who were difficult to care for. But, it had also cost her.
It was while sitting in the dark, in a room that whispered her strengths and weaknesses with each item in that room, that she felt the weight of her failure. She was uncertain that she could or would ever change but she wanted to. She wanted to be for others what so few had been for her. She wanted to make people laugh, to see the joy in life and the hilarity in plans gone awry. She wanted to invest in someone, in something, in anything, and laugh with the ease of someone who embraces everything that comes with drawing breath.
In the darkness, the comforting stillness that can only be achieved in the late and early hours when most people are deep in slumber, She could feel possibilities emerge. The sun, the bright light of day, might obliterate the peace she felt, burning her hopes to a weight like a roast left in a hot oven all night. There was always this possibility when the sun rose but, with each night She knew that the stillness of night could, once again, speak peace to her troubled mind. And in that peace, new dreams could be dreamt.
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