sans titre.

i don’t know why i ever chose to grow up. i wish i could go back to the five year old me running around in sundresses, barefoot in the grass and climbing trees and tell her to stay there. to never leave that place. that simplicity. that joy. the sunshine. that easiness. someone to take care of you so you can just be you. and live. and taste life. but now you can’t count on anyone to take care of you, but yourself. and even that proves fatal most days.

now things are messy. complicated. painful. difficult. dark. heavy. i still haven’t figured out just how it happened. i suppose it was a slow unraveling. one that sneaks up on you one day when you realize nothing is as it was before. it stems from a slow realization of the harsh realities of this life. the realization that it can’t be easy. that life’s beauty is short lived and fleeting. that there are more people to tear you up than to love you. a heart becomes more of a chew toy than a beating source of passion and life.

i don’t think you see a light when you die. i think you see the brightest light when you’re born. surrounded by love and attention. and then the darkness slowly starts setting in. not much at first. just like a cloudy day with the sun bleeding through the blanket of clouds. then the day gives way to dusk. then one day you find yourself in a cave with just a flashlight. you can see enough to avoid tripping over what’s right in front of you, but you can’t see enough to find your way out. then one day the batteries run out. and now you only have an old lighter in your pocket. just enough light to see your hands in front of your face. but it quickly becomes too hot to hold and will, too, soon extinguish. and then you’re left, alone, and lost, in a dark, cold cave. i can only imagine death as the darkest dark. blacker than any night known on this earth. so black that you know you’ll never get out of it. never go back. never feel the sunshine again.