Snuggled into my favorite blanket, and cradling a cup of hot chocolate, I stared out of the window. Somehow the mist outside had gotten into my head, my mind is a haze.
The outside world looked enticing; and, I felt myself being drawn to it like it was a black hole. It is a black hole. It’s terrifying, but attractive- the world outside, it drags me in and never lets me go. It makes me feel like I’m useless, like I’m not needed by anything or anyone, like I have no purpose (but do I have a purpose?). To and fro it marches, with the purposeful clatter of its stilettos, trampling my self-esteem underfoot. But I only go back and get hurt again. Those who wander aimlessly in this black hole are lost, and we are better off that way.
I wanted to throw off my blanket off and put on a coat, I wanted to run out into the foggy morning and prove my worth. I wanted to smile and laugh loudly and put on my own lethal-looking stilettos, but I knew that I would lose myself in the mist; I knew that my smile would falter weakly, and my laugh would turn to a whimper. The world would taunt me once more- slap me then pull me in again, drag me in again- until another bubble of my laughter disappears amidst the sound of a weak little cry.
I snuggled deeper into my blanket and took a scalding sip from my cup; I waited for the warmth to fill my body, but I felt a shiver run down my spine instead. No, I’d rather be lost, and aimless, and trampled, a bald dandelion, in this windy world of purpose. I’d rather get hurt again and again and again, than feel this haze in place of my brain, this haze that reminds me of my failures and freezes my insides. I’d rather go out and try my hand at proving my worth again. I’ll wander till I find my path. Besides, feeling a smile crack on my face, I thought, Not all who wander are lost.
The door creaked open, it has long since been used to my comings and goings, and I stepped into the back hole again.