Darkness Overtakes

Perhaps you'd think much of me, or perhaps you'd think very little.

I am the wallflower.

Perhaps you'd call me strange, or perhaps you'd never care.

I am the one who hides.

Perhaps you'd find me beautiful...But what point is there in beauty?

I am the monster.

Perhaps my obsession takes a new form.

Then I'd be alone.

Perhaps you'd pity me or hate me.

Perhaps you'd love me or leave me.

Perhaps I'll never find you. Perhaps it doesn't matter.

Perhaps I have never in fact changed. Perhaps "I am who I am".

Perhaps I am alone here. Perhaps everything is superficial or what is real isn't or what isn't real is. Perhaps I know nothing and perhaps I find knowledge, to do what with?, nothing. What good is anything or nothing?

Perhaps I am no longer as unique as I thought. Perhaps I have no dreams or aspirations because I am stupid, weak, and useless. Perhaps everything is a lie and I can't tell up from down.

I don't think I'll be transformed. Because everytime I am, I never stick. I lose myself and that shouldn't terrify me but it does. Because all I have is me (whatever that means). I lost You and that sucks. I don't listen anymore because I'm too terrified of my own shadow. Why am I so ridiculously weak? Why am I so stupid? Why am I so...disappointed?

Ortberg, I seek answers in your book. Spirit...Spirit, I know you're upset with me. But I-

Stop. Stop the excuses. Stop the walls and the lies. What happened to transparency?

I lost it when my bleeding brokenness scabbed over. I lost feeling in my life and it's strange because I know why I want to do everything the world has to offer and why I want to devour color and beauty.

Because I'm empty. I'm so lost. I think that all the knowledge I can master will fulfill me. I think that if I could just live in a world of color, of beauty, if I experience everything there is to experience, I'll be happy. I'll have lived life to the fullest.

But it won't matter. I won't be remotely satisfied. That's why I've lost aspiration and dreaming. Because what's the use? What's the use in dressing up or playing with creativity? Nothing. I'm surrounded by people I'm already starting to love but I can't break free. I can't get out of this uncomfortably socially awkward box I've put myself in.

I'm so lost. I keep trying to hide from my emotions, from these feelings, because why should they matter? I think I'm trying to recover my self-importance. Back home I had positions and power and authority. Here I'm no one. The slate's wiped clean, but I have nothing to show for it. I'll just fade into the background. Because, really, how important am I? I'm not. I'm not worth recognizing or knowing. I'll be one of the one hundred girls here with the same name and no one will be able to distinguish me from any other.

I've lost myself. And I'm not sure I want to find me. I'm actually rather terrified of responsibility and obligation. I fear commitment. Actually, I think that's why I'll never find you. Because if I did, I wouldn't commit to you. I can hardly commit to my own family or my own Creator. How could I commit to a stranger? I've built you up in my mind. You aren't real. You don't exist. You'll hurt me. And I'll want to manipulate you.

I've forgotten how dark I can be. How I can twist and pull and scheme. I'll do that. Just like I've done to everyone else... I'm underhanded and selfish. I know why I'll never find you.

Because I'm ugly, inside and out. I'm grotesque and hideous. I'm a beast. I sneer with wicked eyes and gnash my fangs in thirst for blood. I will want to hurt you.

It's best we never meet.