The Ones Living Through Me

At this time in my life I feel the weight of everyone’s expectations. She hopes I will pursue that passion of mine because she chose to give that up for herself and now she doesn’t want to see me make the same choice. She looks at me as a younger version of herself, I don’t want to let her down. He looks at me and sees a Revolutionist. He points out my loyalty to my morals and beliefs and urges me to be the advocate of man. I am not qualified to be that person but I want to try so that he isn’t disappointed in me. That woman over there, she was an educator of mine. She wants me to enter her field. She tells me that I am talented and that I should pursue the sciences, she gets so proud when I perform well. I do not want her to think I am settling. Behind that curtain and through the hall stands a man who believes in me. He talks about me to others and I am highly honored by that but at the same time that makes me nervous. He holds me to a high standard. What if I fail his test and I go from having his approval to being a crumpled piece of paper in the trash can of his memories? What if my choice leaves a bitter end to my name? Look down, that young boy looks at me like I’m a superstar. He is so young, he believes I can do anything. Oh how I want to believe his childhood innocence. She thinks I am on the verge of making my dreams come true. She doesn’t know this but every time she talks to me about my daydream believer’s goal I collapse a little more inside. What if I never make it there? Will I become a wasted talent in the things I enjoy? Not that I hold myself to the highest standard. Hell, I know my shortcomings more than anyone else, but what if I become another face in the crowd when I was born to shine on a platform? He wants me to write, and write and write. I think he wanted to be a writer but he gave up on it. I want him to see success, if it is through me then so be it. I’m carrying her ideas of who I am, I dragging his dreams for me and somehow I find myself stumbling from the weight of it all. I have to carry every possible version of my future to the finish line and make them all proud. I can’t stand to sell myself short.

I’m standing at the genesis of a road that branches into one hundred paths, now I must discover how I can walk them all.


Blissful Confusion

You. I have a hard time writing about you. I haven’t noticed your walk and I haven’t categorized your laugh. Maybe this is because I haven’t had enough time, but maybe it is because you and I aren’t the same and he and I were.
I had time to take him in. I daydreamed for longer than I care to admit and that made every part of him a chapter to this movie I had been watching all along. I listened to him for a long time and he heard me in return. We joked and laughed and remained the same. You and I haven’t landed on that stone in the path yet.
Am I being guarded, my dear? If so I apologize. You see, you haven’t given me much to go off of. You say one thing and do not finish the other. You make me smile but after a while I rub my head out of confusion. Do you, or don’t you? Do I, or don’t I?
I try to keep him out of this but I can’t help but compare my heart’s notes. He and I made sense, but we never came to be. You and I make sense but will we ever come to be?
He looked at me, but he looked past me. After all, he had to. Will you though?
I can’t seem to make these ends meet. I’ve been sitting in this tree for so long, I don’t want to come down and face my problems at eye level. From this high up everything is right. I love the times when we are in a good place, but my confusion is overtaking them.
He confused me too.
Does that mean history is repeating itself?