🌀 The Light | MMCXLIII

I can feel the darkness pulling me

Every time I try to step into the light

It’s not a hard pull, but a sturdy tug

Strong enough to keep me from reaching everything I want to be

Just when I think I’ve left it all behind,

when it feels like I’m stepping into the light—

like that scene in Scandal Season 4 when Olivia Pope has left Fitz and is on a beach with Jake, and she feels like things are finally going right,

but they don’t—

that’s when I get pulled back in.

It’s not big things.

It’s little things.

The thoughts that lead me,

or the way I make people feel

People I love

With words that aren’t meant to harm.

But they always seem to,

even though I don’t want them to—

So many nights I’ve lain there by myself

going over the things I did wrong

Looking for ways to do things right

Telling myself I won’t go down that path again

Every time it feels like we’re making progress—

another 10 steps back.

Why do I hurt the ones I love?

“It was just a joke,” I tell myself.

They should not have taken it so seriously.

But when someone says something to me, that’s not a joke — that was serious.

What a funny double standard.

It’s always the moments when I’m feeling my best,

moments I feel like I’m flying,

that I get careless.

I get carried away

and I cause hurt,

when I’m trying to share joy.

Her words ring in my ears, “But how would you feel if they said or did that to you? Why do you think it’s no big deal for them, but it’s okay if it’s a big deal for you?”

Back to square one

Staring at the light

Longing for the light

With the heavy hand of darkness on my shoulder

No matter how many times I try to brush it off, shake it off, push it off,

it’s there again.

Like nothing I do matters

Like I actually didn’t do anything at all to make it go away

“You bring so much joy and light to the world with your energy.”

It’s that very energy that spreads the darkness to those I care about.

It’s not a fatal stab in the back

Maybe some would prefer that over death by a thousand cuts

And when I realize I’m the one holding the blade

I sit and ask myself if this part of me will ever go away

Now it’s night, and I am pondering over what I did today.

What I fucked up today.

I just hope I can do better tomorrow

“I love them so much,” I tell myself

But your actions and your words don’t make them feel loved.

Who am I to say they’re wrong?