I am not one to "let go".
I hold on until my knuckles turn white and the feeling in my hands fade.
Most of the things I clutch to so dearly I can't actually touch. Ideas, feelings, dreams, all of which live in my heart and mind, ironically two other places I can never touch.
I hold onto people, even if they are bad for me because somewhere in my mind I feel that if I dream hard and long enough I will get what I want.
Story tellers speak of crossroads, legendary places in our hearts and minds or maybe even actual addresses where we as naked humans dance with the devil of choice in the pale moon light.
This is where I stand now, on the edge, scared, scarred not sure of what to do, but knowing that things must be said. Change is afoot and I must heed it's call. Some people say I am a 6, LOL and a phobic 6 at that, they are right, this is my curse my struggle against my own fear that keeps me crippled. I want so much and expect so little.
I wonder if this feeling lies in the spirit of every adopted child or if it's just a quality of bastards? Either way I am bound, trapped, the one place a 6 never wants to be. I must chose and for me in this moment choice is life. The wrong choice is metaphorical death. Confrontation is something an adopted child avoids with all sincerity. Confrontation, or resistance could lead to expulsion or rejection the 2 things a bastard can't be apart of again.
We go to great pains to keep people from leaving. If someone leaves that means we have failed. Period. What is radical and what I am faced with today is the notion of pushing someone anyway because it is in my best interest. I have always put myself last, something I learned from my mother. Bringing others joy and peace always out weighted my own needs.
Hahah, my needs, sorry that makes me laugh, what I need and want has never been available to me. It seems the more love and give the less I get....of course after 3 years of intensive therapy I know what is wrong I just can't manage to fix it.
My biggest sin, I love the wrong people. It's like I pick the ones who will hurt me the deepest and the longest. Which brings me back to confrontation, do I say what I feel, risk rejection which I know is the verdict? I know I am worth it, but do I have the courage to be brave enough to say good-bye?
Frankly the answer is yes. I know it is yes. I am a person of means and worth, my friends would do anything for me and I for them, they are my family, my home.
It's time.
Time to love myself enough to say enough I can bare no more. I will lose something that I prize more than any amount of money or any memento, but in the end I will gain so much more. I am finally hearing the voices of those who love me and finally realizing that my inner critic was right, Brandy deserves more and in the end will find what she seeks.
