Thoughts/ Excerpts

F O U R T Y O N E

Just as I've got it right, someone proves me wrong.

Just as I think I've fixed the problem, others arise and the former becomes augmented with it.

"It's alright, I can do it. I've got this. It's a piece of cake." I tell myself continuously through it all. And keep going. And going. Until I stumble again.

"I've got this. I can do this." I declare through all the dubious noises in and outside of my head, brush the dirt and blood off of my knees and heave myself up. "I have to keep on going." I whisper as my knees ache and blood drips down my clothes, onto the floor. 

And I stop in my tracks for a second in front of an obstacle. "Will I be able to make it?" I question, considering the wounds on my knees. I take my chances and leap as high as I can. "Almost made it!" I exclaim through gritted teeth as I lose momentum and crash onto the edges of the wall in front of me. My entire bodyweight on my hands, I heave myself up yet again, not daring to give into the sense of lost strength in my arms, as they start shaking. I groan as I struggle to throw my leg up the edges of the wall, losing foot twice. Having made the arduous step, I pull with all my might and bring my entire body up the edge, holding onto the top of the wall with my hands and feet, knees on the top of the brick wall. I catch my breath and close my eyes. "It's fine. I'm fine-I've made it." I tell myself while opening my eyes. 

And realize there's still a long way to go. The same way I leaped onto the wall, I have to jump off of it. Acrophobia builds up inside me as I find out that the way down is even more abyssal.

I swallow in an attempt to loosen the lump in my throat. "I'm going to be fine." At this point, averring only positive repercussions of my decision don't help anymore. I know I dread the journey. I am aware of all the consequences. "But my goal." I remind myself, "I have to walk on this path to reach my goal."

With that, I push myself off the wall, intuitively closing my eyes in the process. And crash into the ground.

I feel the broken bones and the warm blood gushing down my knees, carefully poising myself on the uneven ground. Aware that I can't walk anymore, I take a break, leaning onto the wall I jumped off of.  "It would be nice to be granted the shortcut." I laugh, wiping tears and dirt off my face and probably getting some blood on it. "I know why I started all of this." I assure myself through my blurred vision. "The journey will always be difficult. And I am a hard worker." 

With a sigh, I begin putting ointment on my knees and arms, feeling the sting, being thankful for it and praying that I'll have the strength and willpower to keep being on this journey. 

This is not a journey aimed at the amplification of my self-destructive behavior. This is a journey that will preserve the hope in me and keep me going, for my pre-determined ambition. Of course the end of the path is still a long way to go, and the trek takes some serious determination at the very least, but at the end of the day, all of this is worth the fight.

Why I started my journey, why I keep treading down the different paths my journey requires me to is the reason I remain resilient and tenacious. I persevere for the very cause, the root and reason of my journey and hopefully, I will.