I crumbled. It was as if 15 years of creating a shell shattered. My world. My emotional well being disintegrated. Around me. In front of me. Despite me. I broke. My life cracked open. Memories, regrets, questions, past love, loss, hurt and uncertainty all stored and packaged nicely within me. Tightly secured in my mind, beyond my being. Just out of reach my childhood, my teenage years and my twenties were set soundly out of conscious thought. It was all there. The good, the bad and the ugly. In a moment, perhaps with a lapse of effort my mind wandered. It weaved through my life to the extent it could recall. It danced with my devils and it sang. The louder it grew the harder it became to ignore. The levee broke. Life, my life, flooded into my present. I closed my eyes. I let the pressure surround me as I slowly drowned in my own personal sadness. Confronting each thought individually to reach the surface. I let it wash over me. It had been too long. Perhaps more than half of my life. I hadn’t come to terms with me. With my life. Now. As what I know and thought evaporate and as a new identity emerged. I let it pound against me and as I teetered on the edge of collapse I loosened my grip and I fell. I fell into my own collapse with the most welcoming arms. You would have thought I planned it. Welcomed it. Designed it. I lay still. Not recognizing my sudden failure. My lack of strength. My fragility. I lay still, somewhere between alive and dead in awe of my own weakness. Astonished that I had broken. That my life fractured despite my will. I could no longer hold it together. Not for a single second.
I don’t know how long passed. It may have been a few hours possibly less, possibly more. Time was irrelevant. No longer linear but singular. Old and young, together. Alive and dead, together. Sad and happy, together. Everything, together. I watched my dog die in my arms. I felt the loss of great friends. I spoke to them. Promising never to forget. I relived pain, loneliness, sorrow, pubescence. I had my heart broken. I broke hearts. I lied. I cheated. I stole. I acted without regard. I hurt, I was hurt. Regret. Years of living and not living, moments at a time. Discarding them. Letting go. These moments no longer mattered to me as they had. The pain wasn’t necessary. The regret could never be resolved. Mistakes could not be unmade. Life could not turn back. It would never turn back. It doesn’t need to be forgotten but it needed to be unpacked. I cleared out my house, slowly. I laid silent, eyes pulled tightly. Wanting to cry. Desperately wanting to cry but somehow unable. I lost the ability some years ago and as I try to understand where I am now I struggle still. Uncertain why I can’t do what others do so naturally. Silently I moved through my mind. I moved through my life. Letting go. The past was no longer necessary in defining me. My future had grown separate. I was no longer me. I am no longer me. I no longer know who I am. I don’t know what I am. How can you possibly know who you are, if you don’t know what are? I have the same body I have had since I was born. My hands are the same. My eyes still see the world. My shape is unrecognizable. My skin is dark and blotchy. My hair is gone. My eye lashes are all but gone. I look in the mirror and I see this figure starring back at me. I don’t know this person but somehow this is me. How can you know who you are if you don’t recognize yourself?
The flood cleared. My mind cleared. Sharper. Brighter. Focused. Certain. I know what I want. I know who I love. My love is deeper. My honesty unwavering. I know who I will be. I just need to get there. Nothing will keep me from it. Nothing. I will destroy whatever gets in my way. I will do so with no remorse. I am the letting go.