Extraordinarily Ordinary

In my efforts to educate myself on healthy function, both with myself and others, I have come across a quite foreign concept: “Abundance: plentifulness of the good things of life; prosperity”. Often what is discussed is an Abundance of love, charity, goodwill, or any other expression of human empathy and compassion.

I must admit though, that it is difficult for one that is starving to act as if there is an abundance of food. Charity is harder to cultivate when one is bleeding, except of course, that it is done with less than altruistic intentions.

Healing, I find, is just a constant cycle of discovering that the world I was raised in was firmly ill-suited for creating a well-adjusted person; then subsequently assuming the necessary responsibility of challenging and changing that world in hopes of building a better future.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel hopeless most days.

I’d be lying if I said that I believed that love and human compassion were things that felt abundant, in myself or others.

I don’t know if it stems from some quiet form of arrogance, but I always feel like I am standing next to myself; observing dutifully my intentions and twisted motivations.

So often I gaze upon my heart and see a petulant little brat throwing a tantrum, begging to be loved and yet rejecting all aid.

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I am jealous so often

Jealousy: a vile, poisonous thing so far removed from things that are wholesome or loving.

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Really though, after all that. The thought that urged me to write today was far more simple.

I am jealous of your love and friendship with her

I am scared that you love me less now.

I am afraid that we are growing apart, slowly and quietly moving in different directions until I can see you no longer.

I have so much love for you. But more often than not, the more I love the more I fear (but then is it real?)

I’m just selfish, and so scared of losing one of the few people I have felt genuinely love(d) me.

I cannot keep you, I won’t stifle your growth.

But I’ll bitterly mourn a loss I am unsure is even real.