I’m terrified at the thought of doing nothing with my life, ergo I compensate in an attempt and irrational need to overachieve at everything I pursue.

In certain situations I seem to drive myself into the same head on collision that I just recovered from, avenging my own demise and resurrection with the vow that I’d never do it again… of course until the next time. And just when the dust begins to settle and the state of things returns to whatever I once considered “normal,” another gust of wind emerges from under the rug to serve as a reminder of what I’ve tried so hard to keep buried below and forget.

Nothing ever stays below the surface. Truth has the buoyancy of helium, akin to the innocence of a child’s birthday balloon. It often escapes the careless grasp and floats every so methodically to the surface. Up, up and away; out of reach, beyond control.

I curse myself for the blind eye I turned over and over in my head. One cheek upon the next; willing to revolve as if programmed to accept the abuse. It smarts. Tearing flesh and organ from wherein sentiments and a heart used to lie. Vacancy in the eyes and a hollow sounding tone resonate from within memory and I grasped into the darkness partially expecting nothing but so often attempting to find you in the void; shrouded in secrecy within the cruel game of hide and seek.

Searching for order within the chaos and method to the madness only to come to the conclusion that it was nothing more than a role play fantasy bred in the safety net of cyberspace where you can be anyway you chose and nothing really matters nor has repercussions. So much cooler on-line