What do you do, when all is right
yet all is wrong
So much to say,
No way to say it.
Many times I am the best version of myself when
I am just me,
I'm not sure what this says about me,
but I do know I am cursed with a lifetime of loneliness
I am a wall flower all on my own
I am much stronger when I am alone
Pity me not, for I am at peace
Alone in serenity I am at ease
I sat by the rocks on top of the cliff over the beach that was conveniently placed behind my school.
Or rather my school conveniently placed in front of it.
I felt alone as I sifted through my notes and waited for him to come. I hoped he would come but I did not know if he would. I was used to expecting the worst, and I convinced myself this time would be no different.
Beyond the overhang of the cliff I sat, there was a man fishing, wearing a bright pink hat and yellow shoes. He stood on a rock all alone as he intricately moved his hands along his fishing line. I could not make out the movements but I could tell he was well rehearsed.
I kept peaking over my shoulder to see if I would see him coming to join me but he was no where in sight. As I sat there watching the fisherman, I realized I was not at all alone. A contentness fell over me as I realized that I was never really alone. Or perhaps that being alone wasn't really being alone when you can make peace with it.
In that moment I realized what I had always realized but was never able to make peace with:
We would probably wander much of our lives alone but we ultimately get to chose if we want to be lonely or not.
Some days I will feel lonely, and other days I'd find my fisherman in the distance to find comfort in.
His thread weaving through my silk cloth
Agonizing at first I thought,
he punctured exhaustively through my sheath.
Felt broken and torn from beneath
I then came to the realization; I was sewn up tighter and tougher than ever before
I am not a carefully prepared bouquet of flowers
arranged to please anyone
to create comfort
I am the raw uncomfortable, that they want to pretend doesn't exist.
I am a bowl of wild flowers
Easy on the eyes
Easy on the soul
— The End —