(no subject)
Sometimes I can't help but to wonder where this path that I'm on will lead me. Who will walk the path with me? What wonders will I see? Who will help me on the way- and who will I help on the way? It's so complicated and I can't help but to ponder such things.
How did I even get on this path- the people that currently walk side-by-side with me didn't walk with me before, and those that did walk with me before chose a completely different path. I'm scared that those who walk beside me now will desert me and leave me alone- completely alone. Alone, without protection, without confidence, without knowledge, walking alongside dangerous people.
Perhaps it is good that certain people leave my side to walk a different path- a path where flowers bloom, a path with mystic trees, a path wherein reality appears as a dream. To walk by myself will mean that I will change for better or for worse. To walk by myself will mean that I will mature. To walk by myself will mean that I will become completely independant- something that I shall perhaps never recover from.
I walked alongside two individuals once- and I was more dependant upon them than anyone I had ever met before. I leaned on them as I walked because of my premature and weak body. I had been physically, emotionally, and spiritually dependant upon them. They both found other paths once, that they desired more than the one they shared with eachother, and with me- and so we three parted. I continued to walk, despite my struggling muscles, despite my battered and abandoned mind. I knew that I could not stop walking- for everyone around me continued walking - either by themselves, or with support- physically, spiritually, emotionally. My premature body matured faster than anyone else's had. For such a young individual, my feet were tough, my legs were strong, my will was unstoppable. I learned to walk without leaning on anyone.
Years passed. Two paths appeared and merged alongside mine- and those who I had once been completely dependant upon greeted me and walked on either side of my body. They both took one of my shoulders and held me up. I didn't understand. Why was this happening? Did they not comprehend that I could walk by myself? Could they not realize that my body had matured at my abandonment so many years before? I protested at first but their strong and insistant hands held fast to me. I could not refuse their 'generosity' (as they called it) any longer and so my muscles became weak, my feet soft, my mind moldable. I changed again, reverting back to that which I had once been.
He pushed me. He who I had been so emotionally and unwrenchably attached to pushed me. I fell on the ground and my soft skin tore and ripped. He ran ahead, away from me. She, the other who I depended on, ran after him in attempts to rectify the situation- a goal that would never and could ever be accomplished. In my weak and helpless state I crawled onto a park bench. I could not simply continue walking like I had so many years before. I was not only abandoned- I was wounded. Those who walked passed me scouled in disgust- 'Stupid girl. How can she not appreciate the able body she has? How can she not appreciate the beautiful road placed in front of her to walk upon?'. There were so many glances, so many hurtful glances.
Only one stopped to sit beside me and ask me if he could be of service. I knew who he was. He and I had spoken before, talked about the gorgeous trees, or the playful animals running alonside us. I revealed to him my wounds and he gasped. I didn't want pity so I stood up. I walked (slowly) and refused to wince and reveal my pain. He never once took hold of my arm to physically support me - yet he never stopped talking. Day and night we would exchange words as he slowly walked with me and my mind strengthened to a point I never thought possible. Sometimes I could not hide the pain and he would sit with me upon a bench alongside the road. He would stay until I again felt able to walk- and we then continued along the path.
She eventually came back but my experience led me to dislike hands upon me, physically supporting me, emotionally warping me. She touched my harm and held tight, but I slapped it away. She tried again. I slapped it away. She tried again. I slapped it away. But I still talk with Him. He still walks beside me and He still stops when I need to stop. And she still tries to touch me every once and a while, and I still gently push her away. She walks farther from me every day that passes. And He walks closer to me every day that passes. But we talk- He never attempts to physically hold me up- I like that- He knows me.
I am still not strong, I still have to stop sometimes, I still dream of better paths. We came to a hill once, and we could see the path in front of us. Far ahead it splits into many paths, breaking off from the straight and steady one that I have traveled all of my life. I know that He will travel the one on the left- the look in his eyes tells me he is anxious for it- and I can't blame him, it is the most beautiful path that I have yet seen.
I fear that my lack of strength will prevent me from diverting from the path I currently walk. I have always known that one day I would come across such a split in the road, as the one I saw on that hill. I always thought that I would be able- physically, emotionally, spiritually- to choose a path and walk upon it. I always held firm to the belief that I could not endure (emotionally) the path ahead of me. And now I may have to.
I do not want to separate from He who has emotionally strengthened me, and even more I do not want to separate from the spirit within me that desires beyond a shadow of a doubt to go on and travel another path- a better path. But talking with Him, I know that even when he splits onto his path, and others on to their paths, I will not stay on my path. I will walk in circles, if I must, on the same blocks of cement that I walk now. I will sleep on a bench and practice walking. And even though others will pass me and stare at me and wonder why I refuse to continue on the path- I will walk in circles until I get the strength to walk a path other than the one I currently walk. At this point I am emotionally strong, and only because of that mental strength will I gain physical strength.
My story is not done- because the road I will walk continues on farther than any eye can see. I ponder who I will meet. I wonder if I will ever be able to catch up with those I once walked aside. Perhaps I shall catch up with Him and thank him. Perhaps I shall catch up with that first dependant who pushed me- and run past him in his feeble age. I will run past him and flaunt the flowers that I will collect on the most beautiful path- while he clutches the weeds of his path. Life will be wonderful and I will not dawdle, I will not walk because I will run. I will skip. I will dance. I will jog. I will endure.