He has me constrained. I cannot move. I’m stuck here. The chains, they get heavier and heavier. I cannot hold them up anymore. They constantly weigh me down, keeping their hold on me.
Everyday I wonder what the other side is like. I want to be able to roam free. Far from the room that confines me. Everyday I only have the luxury of gazing at the four walls that have confined me for years.
I am a prisoner.
I am locked in here with no real escape. I am told that this is my life and this is the hand that I’ve been dealt. I somehow have to put up with all of it. I have to smile and pretend that I’m okay.
Well, I’m not.
I have ‘dealt’ for too long. I refuse to just deal with all of this anymore. I want to run freely. I want to kick off my shoes and feel the airbrush against the little hairs on my feet. I want to feel the warm concrete, or sand, or grass against the soles of my feet. I want to run; I want to run far away. A long distance so that I can know how long I can go without stopping.
I don’t want to feel hollow. I want to be filled with happiness and joy. Here, I don’t feel anything. I always feel nothing because a piece of me continues to get chipped away the longer I continue to exist in this tiny cage. Piece by piece, I become lost. I start to forget who I am and my purpose in life.
I don’t want to continue to lose myself.
Inch by inch I must rip off these chains that drag me down. I must rip off the hands that hold me back. They hold further and further away from finding myself again.
I lost myself.
That is the hardest pill to swallow. I’m looking in a mirror and I’m not seeing anybody looking back at me. This is what this place is doing to me. It is draining me. I’m fighting a losing battle.
I hate this.
I hate that I now have to conform to a life that I didn’t choose for myself. I hate that they have all of this control over me and what I do. I lost everything. My home, my friends, myself. I can’t keep losing everything I have. I don’t have anything left.
I must escape.
I must devise a plan to find myself again. I know that I have to go far away from here in order to succeed. This place is hurting me far too much. This cannot be the life I live. How will I explain this to future generations? I was a prisoner? That can’t be the story I tell.
I need a new story.
I need an amazing epic. I will be the hero of herculean stature. I will have amazing strength and I will save my fellow citizens. I will show them how to be brave because that will be all I know how to do. It will be outstanding and the people of the town will sing high praise of my name. I can’t wait.
But for now I’m here.
But, I’m always two steps ahead. I am already planning my escape and I am laying the stones that will support the steps I take to escape. I wouldn’t make a move without devising it first.
I know my next move.
My next key decision lies in where to go after I’m through here. Maybe a vacation because I’m due for one. Or perhaps find my own place to dwell. There I can regain myself, at least the part of me that was lost. I want to find him again.
I miss that person.
I miss him. He used to laugh at any and everything. He had so many friends who always wanted to hang out with him. Sometimes they call to see where he is. Then they get me instead; this new version of me. They don’t want this version. That guy used to be a pretty okay guy, until I lost him.
Where is he?
These chains will fall. They will fall to my sides and I will gaze at them beside my feet and know that I will be able to walk away. I will take my first step. Just wait on it; I will finally move forward, away from him, away from this place, away from the person that I found myself to be in this place.
I will take my first step.
And I will find me again.