steps that cannot be retraced...

...I made a decision tonight...

It was done without thought and out of desperation, a feeling that I have been plagued with for a few days. More like months, actually. I just didn't know it or wouldn't recognize it. I've been fighting off feelings of every kind for a long time; there's no time for emotion, or pain, for that matter, anymore.

But sometimes things happen that crack the pretense of confidence and security. And it truly is pretense. The happy, friendly exterior of a person often hides darker, deeper thoughts and fears. Fears which might even be suppressed and hidden from oneself. It can be shame, or guilt, or escape from pain, or anger at having such feelings. But they are still there: the doubts, the faults, the weaknesses. Each person, struggling day by day through their own personal troubles. Many of which no one will ever know. Many of which, I believe, occur most often inside hearts and minds.

Friendships fail; relationships die. New ones begin, but in all cases the past creeps its fingers into the heart and pries open old wounds-the fear of repeated pain causes one to fall inward. It is the same for things dreamed of, for things hoped for. The long awaited triumph that never comes, the bitter disappointment of being so close, but not making the mark. Dreams, once unwrapped gently like shining glass ornaments and viewed with starry eyes, are placed in dusty boxes and forgotten. Hopes, left untended and alone, shrivel and die like a flower gone too long without water. The continual pain of disappointment often leaves one an empty shell, merely existing. Not truly living.

Every person carries scars. Some scars are only skin deep, with stories behind them, whether sad or brave. Other scars are more painful. Scars of rejection; scars of failure; scars of shame; scars of guilt. Even love causes scars. And sometimes, the personal struggles can leave permanent, easily viewed damage. Broken skin, torn and bleeding, releasing the pain one cannot understand. Broken hearts, brutally ripped apart, beating unevenly in a sobbing gasp. Broken things, tender children with souls of sorrow, faces bent to the ground. For we are all children, in a way. We are all, very much, children, broken and beaten by the world.

I was once told to follow my heart. To do what I wanted most; to be what I wanted to be. I asked them what it meant to follow my heart. In response, I was told "to do what your heart tells you". With a shrug, I replied, "You know, I don't know what my heart tells me to do. It beats-I exist. Nothing more."

...but somehow, things have changed...

There are conflicting thoughts and feelings in my heard. There is terror at the thought of letting go. For so long I have been defined by depression and fear. For so long I have placed a shield between myself and the world. "I can't do it because of depression." "I can't ever be like that because of how I feel inside." "I can't; I'm too afraid." "I'll only fail-why even try?"

...no more...

I know now what I want; I know what my heart's desire is. And this decision-this choice-I pray will set me on the path to what I long for most. It will not be easy, for I am learning that the best choices are often times the most painful. I feel that pain now-the fear to let go-the pain that brings quiet tears and tremors from head to foot. It's terrifying, in more ways than one. But the alternative? The alternative is even more frightening.

My choice has been made. My course is set. The path I have begun will not take me back to where I was earlier this evening. I cannot go back. It will not ever be easy, not as long as I live. But I will learn. I will fail at times, but I will learn how to hope. I will learn how to dream.

...I will learn to live again...