Sometimes it just feels like the end. Where do we go from here? These scattered fragments of our humanness, they’re the pieces of a once brilliant something: possibility. How can I have the answers to the questions that are not fully formed in my mind? “What do I want?” seems too vague and overused. If I had the answers I wouldn’t have the questions.
It’s hard to move forward when there is no forward to go. A brick wall. Do I climb or do I wait?
I don’t know how to get out of this place. Trapped. Trapped by indecision. I’ve been here before. Maybe I’ve never really left this place.
So what does it mean to be stuck and stationary? Will my life be lived like this entirely? I am terrified to move forward; out there waits a big dark unknown. But there’s no where to go back to, and here is hardly a place at all.
To sum up- I’m stuck. And maybe it’s easier to deny it and blame it on the big bad man who hurt me, but I’ve only got myself to blame now. No one stopping me from getting up and moving forward; only me.