It is agony and drought contrasting against the clear sky.
All my life, I hated waiting. If there is something I want to have, I would chase it and even make extreme efforts to obtain my hyperfixations. I set a timeframe, and never let my plans go behind the time I set for them. I never wait for “signs”—if I want something to happen, I will make it happen myself.
Maybe because of the suffocating life I led so far, I became really lousy and tired over the years. I started to appear late in important events and intentionally waste my time loitering in my bedroom. I disregarded my Gantt charts, and freestyled my plans, because that seems like what normal people do—just living the present moment. But, I cannot do it naturally, so I became a mediocre living thing.
And because of the tight life I treaded, I missed a lot of parts in the normal character development of a normal functioning adult. You see, I am fundamentally impaired, so in order to fix this missing piece—or any missing piece in my life—I always resort to extreme, unexpected, abnormal, and pressurising measures. I am a control freak because I have always lived in chaos—I never lived in peace.
No, there is one peaceful thing in my life. There was. It is like a warm igloo in a trilliard cubic metre of chaos. It should have stayed peaceful for the rest of my life. Either I took it for granted, or I was so blinded by the overwheming chaos around me to even see the small unit of peace behind me—either way, I did not cherish it properly, and I ended up cracking the glass over the years.
So, I voluntarily created a situation which I had to let it free—an extreme, unexpected, abnormal, and pressuring measure. To force myself to seek for it when it is gone. To pressure myself to chase for it when it is untouchable. To work for it when I have always been on the receiving end. To win my peace back, with my blood, sweat, tears, wits, and prayers.
And, it will take a long time, and only God knows if it will come back.
Time was never my friend. And for me who always had things my way, losing control drives me losing my sanity, too. I smile at people and perform my job just fine. But behind the facade, just like the flipping of a switch—my blood boils; my chest tightens; my muscles contract; my hands shake; I wail and switch off; I bite my nails and pull my hair in discomfort; I stab my hand; I scratch my skin; an uncontrollable urge to physically hurt my seatmate, or throw or smash things surges. Losing control is an unexplainable suffering. And I have no control over time, which is why time always plays me—not “with me”—because I have no choice but to keep existing in its realm.
And because I lost the only peaceful thing in my life—no, because I drove it away from me who is self-destructing—I am wailing in regret daily that I intentionally created a situation which I have no choice but to wait until it comes back.
Now, my bird is flying in the airs of time instead of staying in my cage. I cannot jump high to catch it. I cannot teleport beside it. I cannot fly like a bird. I cannot even know where it is when it goes out of my sight because my human eye can only see that much.
But, should I? Really? Should I jump high? Should I teleport? Should I fly? Should I know its whereabouts? I let it go, why am I thinking about all of this? Why is it my problem that I cannot reach something I willingly drove away? Why?
Am I just obsessed with the control I used to have? Then, I am just proving my own point, that I am not capable of giving love and accepting love, which is the exact reason I opened its cage.
And I decided to do exactly that to pressure myself to change—to be able to present myself to society one day, as a proper human who deserves again the peace I was once granted by heaven.
And, it will take a long time.
And, I have to bear this fight.
The song goes, “Leaves will soon grow from the bareness of trees, and all will be all right in time.” When is “in time”? I cannot control time. And time almost works in my favor. Not even when time introduced me to my peace. Not even all the years my peace stayed with me. Not even when I let my peace fly free. And maybe not even the uncertain future I plan to win my peace back.
Leaves will soon grow from the bareness of trees… From waves overgrown come the calmest of seas… Wounds of the past will eventually heal… All of this comes with a love that is real And all will be all right in time Leaves, Ben&Ben
I hope one day will come when I never have to beat up myself, or find one source of light and choke it to death, or race against time. I hope one day will when I would accept my flaws, acknowledge the abundance of light around me, and enjoy life.
Despite the noble causes I make myself believe and the beautiful future I look forward to build, the process is a storm, which should have not even occurred in the first place if only I had paid attention. I would not have something to cry now if only I deserved what I had.
I had all the time, but I did not use it properly, thinking I had unlimited of it. And now, I have to wait, in a scary realm, behind a whole network of possibilities and uncertainties.
But for now, let me wonder here. Even if it agonises me to the deepest of my bones, I have no choice but to wait, and make the most out of this painful waiting time. If I have to pine in uncertainty when I never had to wait my whole life, I deserve this much. If this is the way I atone for the years I took for granted, then be it.