Curled up like a burnt leaf.
I've gone through such a large step back in my maturity. When my father died, My confidence went with him. I've been going through the days one by one, really not sure of anything. I'm so full of "I don't know"s and "If you want to"s that my opinion amongst those I converse with has become near irrelavant. I go about the day, curled up in the fetal position, at no one moment standing tall and being who I want to be. My friends see me sad and come ask me what is wrong, but they know what is wrong, I give them the same ol' answer, the same ol' thing, and they miss the me they used to know. I know so because I also miss the me that I once was. Eventually everyone tires of listening to my cries, because it is up to me to silence them, and their support has little effect. I'm all burnt out on the ground, a pile of ash blowing through the wind. My thoughts are dispursed so sporadically that I never seem like the same person twice, never seem like I'm all the way there, never never never...
I tried to regain my confidence a few days ago. It worked, if only for but a moment. Why do I expect to transform over night? I hope to, because I miss the me that was. I look in the mirror and see my father still. My brother was right, I look just like him. But not the him that I remember, not full of confidence, fearless, and bearing infinite wisdom. My father was a great man. No, in my reflection I see the lost, confused and pain ridden father that he was in his last moments. I see that within me. Well, As he continued to stand up and fight the pain each day to be with his family and spread his love to his dying breath, I too will stand up. I must, for myself, conquer the past to live in the present. I should probably see a counsilor. My mom said so, my friends say so. But I don't...why is that? Perhaps it is because my father did that very thing himself. He was a councilor to young children, and in that way, he was my councilor. His memory will forever be my councilor.
Here is the moment that I officially stretch my stiff limbs out from the fetal position. I will stand, and do my best to stand tall, like my father, and live a life worth living.
Thomas Pendergrass
P.S. (I really need to learn how to spell counselor.)
I tried to regain my confidence a few days ago. It worked, if only for but a moment. Why do I expect to transform over night? I hope to, because I miss the me that was. I look in the mirror and see my father still. My brother was right, I look just like him. But not the him that I remember, not full of confidence, fearless, and bearing infinite wisdom. My father was a great man. No, in my reflection I see the lost, confused and pain ridden father that he was in his last moments. I see that within me. Well, As he continued to stand up and fight the pain each day to be with his family and spread his love to his dying breath, I too will stand up. I must, for myself, conquer the past to live in the present. I should probably see a counsilor. My mom said so, my friends say so. But I don't...why is that? Perhaps it is because my father did that very thing himself. He was a councilor to young children, and in that way, he was my councilor. His memory will forever be my councilor.
Here is the moment that I officially stretch my stiff limbs out from the fetal position. I will stand, and do my best to stand tall, like my father, and live a life worth living.
Thomas Pendergrass
P.S. (I really need to learn how to spell counselor.)