So apparently, my friend wrote something and she wanted me to read it. The monologue (below) is just really well-written and I hope that you’ll read it. I asked permission to her if I can post it here on my blog and she said yes! She will however remain anonymous for some reasons. I told her to post it on her blog but she said no to the extent that the person she wrote this for might read it. So anyways, I hope you’ll like it.
The Red Light
I am laying on my bed, staring at my ceiling hoping to find a glimpse of my own reflection in it. The one that I loved. The ‘happy’ version of myself. The one that you carelessly took on adventures with. The one that loved you. The one that needed you.
Before I met you, I did not enjoy thinking about my surroundings, the people around me because it scared me. I did not want to discover something that would make its way into my mind and stay there. Like a drunken mistake tattooed on the walls of my mind, desperately sinking its claws for a way to get out.
Before the friendship had started, I had an empty mind but now it seems to be a box filled with unfinished sentences left to be broken, left to be unsaid forever. I am afraid of the thought of forever, you would know. Like you did a lot of things.
I like to believe that we were actually happy once, in each other’s presence. But I guess what’s worse that unrequited feelings is unfoldable secrets. We had a lot of secrets. Shared sentiments of all types and I promised myself that I would make myself learn how to care. All my life I have been training for a life that I have always known I would have. You knew this, didn’t you? You knew how much I’ve kept to myself. How much anger I drown myself in everyday so as not to let anyone know that fear and madness is part of the dictionary that is my heart. We both know that I do not know how to love people. I do not know how to care for the ones that mean the most to me.
Although I know how to build gardens inside of my stomach. In each flower, is a person. I do not like to visit those gardens because I do not want to remember. I have taught myself that forgetting is easier than dreaming of something unpredictable. We were always so sure of everything. You, especially. You were always so passionate about everything. Always so certain that everything would be okay. You told me that everything would be okay soon. I told you I believed you and made a battleplan against my instincts. “I will not run from love this time. I will not run from love this time. I will not run from love this time.” I chanted those words in my head until it was carved into every headache that I have. I will not give in to myself this time. I should not give in to myself sometimes. I did not see the point in trying so hard and swearing to God you’ll let Him win this time. I soon found myself shouting curses at Jesus and pinning down my thoughts as I begged myself not to fight it anymore. I let go easier than I expected. It was then that I realized that I had been holding off promises; promises of protection to myself. I thought that everything I did was necessary for me to be safe and secure and sure of all of my shit. I never was protected though, was I? I always made my decisions with a red light inside my throat. A rally inside my chest. I don’t think I have ever been so sure of something I thought so little of, until that day.
I too, was glaring at the ceiling, shouting questions I already knew the answers to. I just had never been too sure. I cannot believe that I had let myself become so vulnerable in front of you. All the emotions came rushing, coming from all the directions you can imagine and I made my vulnerability into a suit of armor. Something made of safety. Something made of protection. Something made of everything worth it. I was a sign that was invisible to you. And it felt horrible but my red light turned green and the rally in my chest started parading, and the people in the garden started to come out of my woven promises. I guess you’ll never know how much you meant to me. You taught me everything that there was left to learn. I learned to love. And I loved you like all the promises I wish I swore. My love for you was dangerous, vulnerable, a weakness. But how can something so absurd seem so beautiful. I hope that you are happy where you are, even though it’s nowhere near me. I hope that you still let your promises to me, roll off your tongue like the waves of an ocean. I hope that you learn what it feels like to hold the moon captive as the sun watches you from afar. I want you to learn all the ways you can break yourself and all the ways you told me that everything will be okay soon. Everything will be okay soon because I have loved you in the only way that I knew how to. I protected you from myself and I hope that someday, you’ll realize that going away was worth it.