From time to time, the characters from my novel (or novels in progress) will send me “scenes” to write down. I also have vivid dreams I sometimes jot down in the middle of the night. These inevitably end up in one of my stories. Occasionally these “scenes” are deeper than others and feel like they have some insight to be shared. And so I choose to share them here…
A room full of people, yet you stand alone…
A house full of humans you love and adore, and yet you feel like a stranger…
Dressed. Hair fixed. Make-up applied. Yet you stand in the corner, naked and afraid.
“These people love me; they care about my well being,” you tell yourself.
“Love you?!” the Voice inside your head scoffs. “Care about you? Ha! Tire of you, perhaps. Tolerate you, maybe.”
“We are family,” you retort. “Those are my friends. Of course I’m important to them.”
“Blood equals obligation,” whispers the Voice. “Friendship is superficial. As soon as you finally leave, relief will cause them to exhale the breath they’ve held in your presence.”
Shrink back in the corner. Blend into the couch. Hide in the bathroom. Lock yourself in your room.
Pressed in on every side by people, by fellow human beings, and yet you stand alone. The emptiness inside you doomed to remain void.
But slap on a smile to show them!
Because neediness is burdensome. Weakness a shame. Longing an annoyance.
Yet, like a loyal dog looking for its next beating, you still try to expose your vulnerable heart to those you long to feel close to. And then you learn it is not transparency they long for, but simplicity.
“How are you?” they ask.
“I’m fine,” is truly the answer they desire.
Simple. Uncomplicated. Neat and tidy. No mess. No fuss. No worries.
Alone in the crowd you stand. Alone you remain. To believe in more is to ride a cycle of disappointment into infinite misery.