"The Door is Open"
All my life something has kicked me down when I strode forward too many steps. Sometimes something as subtle as raised tensions that caused me a job, or fumbled words that cost me a relationship. Sometimes something as stark as an act of God, that nearly took my life.But it was always there, somewhere.
And all my life, when I was sure I could go no further--when the money was about to run out, or my spirit simply couldn't withstand another day--something has always picked me back up again. Be it a sudden change of heart in someone else, a sudden windfall of money, or a new job. It was always there.
But my life has been below average. It's been 'comfortable' but also desperate. Safe, but unlivable. Watched out for, but never self-supporting.
But this time, something was different. As I drew my plans, organized my money, and made steps towards being the man I felt I always should have been, I was waiting, and watching for it. When it came today, I was not surprised. I'm losing my job in two weeks.
Normally this would crush me. It would have set me back years...irrevocably, until some strange fortune saved me yet again from the brink. I would have simply given up, as I lacked the will to live.
But this time I am not clouded by madness or confusion. The Power was not there to comfort me, and provide a subtle reminder of the cycle. My job was weak, and I had been meaning to leave it for weeks. I made far less than I needed to move forward, and I already have applications waiting in the wings. Better applications. Applications for things that do not include 'Clerk' in the job description. Things that will let me move on.
It still hurts, of course. It always does when your plans go awry. But this was more like a punch in the gut than a stab wound or a bullet to the chest. It didn't even make me angry. It's like falling down. When you fell down when you were a child, you cried because you didn't know what to do. This pain was foreign and alien to you. You just wanted someone to make it stop.
But then you got older. And falling down became nothing more than an annoyance. A hassle. An aggravation to be shrugged off.
And this time, when that something pushed me down, I was surprised at how weak the blow was. I have the spark of life that I was missing for so long, and suddenly things don't seem as hopeless as they did before, despite my weaker position. The door that was closed to me is now open, and I won't stop until I walk through it, and become free. Or, perhaps, die trying.
But at least I'll die in the effort, if it comes to that. It's a lot better than fading away.
And all my life, when I was sure I could go no further--when the money was about to run out, or my spirit simply couldn't withstand another day--something has always picked me back up again. Be it a sudden change of heart in someone else, a sudden windfall of money, or a new job. It was always there.
But my life has been below average. It's been 'comfortable' but also desperate. Safe, but unlivable. Watched out for, but never self-supporting.
But this time, something was different. As I drew my plans, organized my money, and made steps towards being the man I felt I always should have been, I was waiting, and watching for it. When it came today, I was not surprised. I'm losing my job in two weeks.
Normally this would crush me. It would have set me back years...irrevocably, until some strange fortune saved me yet again from the brink. I would have simply given up, as I lacked the will to live.
But this time I am not clouded by madness or confusion. The Power was not there to comfort me, and provide a subtle reminder of the cycle. My job was weak, and I had been meaning to leave it for weeks. I made far less than I needed to move forward, and I already have applications waiting in the wings. Better applications. Applications for things that do not include 'Clerk' in the job description. Things that will let me move on.
It still hurts, of course. It always does when your plans go awry. But this was more like a punch in the gut than a stab wound or a bullet to the chest. It didn't even make me angry. It's like falling down. When you fell down when you were a child, you cried because you didn't know what to do. This pain was foreign and alien to you. You just wanted someone to make it stop.
But then you got older. And falling down became nothing more than an annoyance. A hassle. An aggravation to be shrugged off.
And this time, when that something pushed me down, I was surprised at how weak the blow was. I have the spark of life that I was missing for so long, and suddenly things don't seem as hopeless as they did before, despite my weaker position. The door that was closed to me is now open, and I won't stop until I walk through it, and become free. Or, perhaps, die trying.
But at least I'll die in the effort, if it comes to that. It's a lot better than fading away.