She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Even her reflection liked to lie to her when given the chance. It was far easier to pretend to be something she wasn’t then to admit her truth. Most people already knew and it was evident in the way they treated her. It was far easier to believe the lies circulating then to stand out of the crowd and protect her. She didn’t need protection from being broken. She was already broken. Cast away like a black sheep from all that knew. Only brought into the circle when there was nobody else left to tease or bug her. Most days were like that. The nervous apprehension of getting on the school bus. Waiting anxiously to see who would sit beside her if anybody at all. She took to sitting at the front because at least the bus driver was her friend. That only further added to her torment though as after they were dropped off there was no end to the relentless teasing that she didn’t fit in. School was hard. Especially once you were a teenager. Not to mention the summer she just had. Her parents sent her away because that was far easier to deal with all the rumours. Maybe that is what exposed her to feeling shame. The feeling of never amounting to anything now became her centre. If her parents were embarassed of who she was then she should be too. Destined to never hold her chin up she was determined to not let them see what they did to her. It was the only satisfaction she got. Be hard enough so they don’t know how badly cracked you truly are. Believe and trust nobody, including herself.
That became her only truth that she believed in. Once believing that if given the chance people would naturally gravitate towards being good. To being nice. Love thy neighbour and all that jazz right? Unless that neighbour carried the embarassment of a scarlett letter then it is best to stone and burn to the ground. What if she infected our children? What if what happened to her happened to others? It is best to ignore her completely then to try and repair the damage that has been done. learning to live jaded and spurned was hard. Her nature told her to see the best in everybody. She may have wore her heart on her sleeve but she still had it under lock and key. The years of embarassment creating a great divide between those she loved and those she needed. Those she thought she needed didn’t truly need her. In fact she was frequently used for all that she had and spit out when they were done with her. It was as humbling as it was scarey to admit to oneself that maybe the journey of life was best lived alone. She didn’t want to believe it but maybe that is all there is. A selfish vortex of cruel intentions all coming to the surface damaging those in their wake.
How can one continue think that the World in itself was destined for greatness. She could see it woven into anything and everything that humans touched. Just like her storey told 20 years prior the headlines in the news are a European tourtist on a tinder date deserved to die. The theory and rational behind it is if you engage in anything but vanilla intercourse then you must have wanted it and shamefully we point a finger claiming that is what she wanted. Who cares that there is a man in the shadows as his lawyers defend his honour. Let the reality sink in that for her family, for her friends the level of violence that endured right before the time of her death needs to result in some sort of punishment. We allow our children, our species to not only torment and abuse each other but every and any life form that they so please. When people have little regard for the lives that they have contributed to an untimely demise what is it that we continue fighting for. We aren’t free. We are imprisoned by our neighbours who are allowed to act in accordance in whatever way they see fit. Where is the backlash? Where is the outrage? There is none. Because for us unless it has impacted us directly it never happened. It is like the space in between that event and time is stricken from the record. We are allowing the inhabitants of the Earth to drive us all into an early grave. They have been doing it for hundreds of years. It started with minorities has we needed a common ground for us all to hate. Now it impacts us all. Whether we want to admit it or not.
And now once again as she stares at her reflection she has to ask…if I stood up for myself all those years ago would it have made a difference. Is the existence of one enough to make a big enough impact. An impact that will resonate around the World. Something needs to be done but is there time? Her grey hairs and wrinkles will tell her to give up the dream. That if it didn’t happen all these years ago why would it happen now. There is no more time for her as she examines her crowsfeet and wonders exactly when did her youth fade. Time tells her that dreams are for the young. That it is foolish for her to try and make an impact in a World so vast. Seeing how her efforts would be in vain what would be the point. Staring deeper into her reflection her eye catches a glimmer of light. There amongst the grey and the wrinkles is the sparkle of youth. The glimmer of hope that tells you that in every given moment it is inside of you. The possibility are endless if given the right nourturing and love. That even if for one day somebody somewhere noticed her. That all she needed to protect her from the outside World was a warm embrace. The comfort of arms any arms was all she needed for her to get through the day. Living another day watching as yet another beautiful inhabitant goes extinct. The gravity of what that means hurts her heart. Not only was her species guilty of raping Mother Nature and stealing her young but they were relentless in her efforts. How do you get a World back to where every life matters. How can we expect that to even be a possibility when we can’t even play nicely with each other.
Watching the rain pour down she can’t help but feel that her life most have a purpose beyond the collection of material needs and wants. There are so many others that are worthy of what is in their hearts but with very little means to do. There are others that dared to live differently but never go the chance to see that into fruition. We all have these unique opportunities to live out our own life course in the most beautiful ways. Fear of the unknown and the haunting memories of our past keep us frozen in time. It is far easier to live unha#seppy in the herd then to find yourself on top of a mountain alone. Yet on top of that mountain the air is cleaner, there is no fog or clouds or misconceptions of what is required of you next. In fact the only requirement is to dare to be different and stand for those who have lost their legs to do so. In challenging times when it seems like the tide has turned against you that is when you have to get all your strength and go forward. An uphill struggle to defend what lays in your heart is worth more than riding the river down stream. That little girl who once cried in the halls out of high school out of fear of never fitting is now right in front of you. Her tears have long dried because she dared to live her life differently. She knows the heartbreak of the World and instead of admitting her own defeat she digs her heels in deeper determined to fix one broken heart at a time. Now as she stands out in front of you she holds out her hand and whispers, “Dare to live your life differently. I will never let you fall. Happiness lays inside of you. Together lets forgive the past and move forward. For today is our only truth, the past is long behind us and the future has not yet happened. For in this moment we can heal all that hurts us and look forward to a better new World.”