Empathy - ORIGINAL PROSE

1 0 0
                                        

How do I forgive? How do I forget? How do I let go and drop the weight I have carried on my shoulders, like a badge of honour, my pride a hindrance to the things which I once loved, which I currently love more than anything else, and that which I shall love tomorrow, and the next day, and every day afterwards? How do I feel happiness, how do I live in the perpetually happy and content state of my fellows, or is this only the way to be, to show such perfect snapshots of a life well-lived, when all falls to pieces behind closed doors? I cannot guess, I wish only to be a fly on the wall to the things which I care so deeply about, to hear how others see me, as I see myself through the reflection of a broken, cracked, smashed mirror in the lonely, dingy, derelict bathroom; I wish to think all they think, I wish to feel all they feel, I wish to know all the secrets to a well-lived, content, happy, satisfactory life they seem to all possess, which I lack in abundance, but, most of all, above all else, when all is said and done, I simply wish to know all they think and feel about me, myself and I, as the person which lives in this world and bears the brunt of its cruelty, its injustice, its hatred, but, more importantly, more painfully, its indifference. How do I forgive my mother, how do I understand her just as I wish to be understood and to learn, just as she had, that this world is built, not for the likes of us, but for others who only stare, or worse yet, not look us in the eye, not meeting our gaze, pleading, praying, hoping they'd hear us and all we endured - together, as one; together, as opposites. I hated her, I loved her, I hated myself, I still feel far too ill, far too sick, weary of head and heart, to find the love I were borne with, all for myself, by myself, so buried in my subconscious it shall remain. I hope my daughter finds it, and allows her treasures she shall be blessed with to live, breathe, grow as she does, as is the gift of love, of friendship, of empathy.

nothing else but my heart's desire [COLLECTION] | FINISHEDWhere stories live. Discover now