Trudging the (Un)Dead End

I was churning out words at 1,000 words per minute, phrases after phrases after phrases coming out in my attempt but only one word struck out and had little jets of pain shooting out of my heart: GOODBYE. I hid in my cave like I always do when the gulf of emotions take me to its highest low.Yes, there is a highest to the low you can get with a disordered mood swing.

I took it as a bile in my throat than say it out loud but later it became an insufferable lump.

The words came jumping out of my mouth without regard for tomorrow or yesterday.

I was nowhere to be found because I did not want to be found.

Sometimes you go inside of yourself and shut the rest of the world out, out of this strong necessity to withdraw, recharge, and give back the respect for yourself that you have not given yourself at the moment you treated your body like a machine, not a temple.

My head spins. I stared out at the window all afternoon with tears streaming down my cheeks, confused and dazed and certain at the same time. This cataclysmic combination of gibberish stayed on until the wee hours of this evening.

It’s never easy to say goodbye when you have fought such a gruelling fight to stay right where you are. But you realize that you really need to move. That sometimes, there are dead ends in life and you will hit your whole head smack in the wall if you do not make the lifesaving three point turn in the nearby cul de sac…

It is actually possible that the thing which nourished you in one year is the thing that kills you in the next. In this case, you need to learn to let go and keep moving amidst the pain of having to extricate yourself with much force.

But it’s really not so dead when you come to think of it. It only hurts because we ascribe so many attachments to things that are transitory and fleeting. The platitudes of my words in this paragraph do not make the pain any less.

They continue to shoot out of my heart like daggers, like a bitchy line of code that does not fit right along with the rest of the commits in one’s git repository and makes this silent but annoying error when you run the script in the command line.

I reckon that I have never felt this immense sense of loss for a while, that I was cruising through a comfort zone, cruising in an attempt to make myself a cocoon and stay there forever.

But like the words that came tumbling out of my hand with the furious clack of my keyboard, I need to fly out of my situation and consider that I have done everything and beyond everything to fix things.

All of me has been spent, exhausted, consumed, and subsumed by the main desire of staying stationary in this single wonderful place. I can no longer avoid the inevitable need to fly out of the nest where I strapped myself in.

The great unknown awaits like some form of looming shadow. I hate the unknown precisely for this reason. But I have no choice because the (un)dead end just had to eject me out. It became toxic beyond reason and there was no other recourse save to keep myself ALIVE.

Meanwhile, I let the tears fall and let some dribble fall on my shirt. It does not always happen so I let it rain like cats and dogs like some messy ritual that makes sense of all the mess inside my head.

I hold my lover’s hand as I go through the worst of the goodbye phase. I gather strength from his hand. I listen to his voice. He calls me every hour to make sure that I no longer flinch from the inevitable phase I need to go through so that the caterpillar turns into a new butterfly.

I made my decision with eyes shut, hands clamped, and teeth grinding in despair. There is no plan B. I do not know where I am going next. But all I know is that I have to get away from this path, as far away as my feet can possibly take me.

In fact, I conveyed it all in fevered writing. My writing was the car that takes me away from this undead end at 160 miles per hour.

To this chapter of my life which has come to its painful end: Goodbye. And thank you for the lessons.

It will take me some time to get used to not having this grind around. My writing voice continues to drive at a relentless speed as it flew out of the dead end, and went zooming straight to that patch of darkness that seems to be my new future.

 

 

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