I haven’t felt sad in two weeks now. There are sad things going on all around me, but it’s like for once, the walls I have struggled to build to protect me are doing their job. I am untouchable. I am safe.
Of course, this could all just be a trick. It probably is a trick. My mind is fooling me into believing that things are okay, but one day, when I least expect it, it’s all going to fall down. A stone I’ve thrown at one point or another will make its way back to crack my glass walls. And then what? Then it’s back to square one, back to the places I so desperately want to avoid, back to the me I am trying to overcome.
So now I’m looking for it. I’m seeking it out. I’m daring the good to go away and replace itself with bad. I’m essentially sending an invitation to my old friend:
Dear Sadness, Where have you been, buddy? Haven’t seen you around lately. Door’s open if you have anything for me… You must… I know you couldn’t have gone too far! Come back and see me soon.
Even my writing is affected. Can happy people really write something moving? Something to which people can relate? It feels so simple, too simple. It feels as if my admission has left me with nothing to say, nothing to share, no way to commiserate. Even the sun which has been MIA for months has been shining lately. It’s like a big fat conspiracy, a practical joke playing itself out with all the laughs on me.
I guess I should take it. I guess I should be grateful for the cover and stop questioning this. I will try, but I will tread lightly because even though with every step I take one foot lifts, there remains the other shoe which will inevitably drop.
“But Charlie, don’t forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he always wanted… He lived happily ever after.”
m1
