Not for a second

Your best friend is getting married and you wonder if you´d trade places. The perfect looking woman actually gets the guy you never knew you always wanted. The grinning fool strolls around the streets and you wonder if ignorance truly is bliss. So many go about their day and you wonder if you would have it easier if you were them. Or as Tori said: “Years go by, will I still be waiting for somebody else to understand?” That´s exactly what it feels like; you feel as though it´s a struggle; being different, living differently, not having everything work out exactly as you had planned. What if you had chosen differently? What if you had been just a little bit more like the rest?

I´ve always felt proud to be unlike the rest but then there are days like today where my heart feels as though it´s in chains. Yes, I love being abnormal, but normal days seem to be abundant and constantly present. And as unique as I claim to be, there are certain normal things I deeply desire. They annoy me, I wish I could want nothing but what I have. These very normal desires get in the way of love. I start to compare my life to others; it starts to hurt in my heart. The loneliness piles up inside until I must burst into tears out of necessity. Dreams remain on the shelf and I wonder what I´m doing with my life. Living it I guess. I truly am trying to do what is right but sometimes what is right really hurts. Pain should not be feared I suppose.

And then there´s Tori and Neil and all those souls that have made it and not only that but they´ve inspired others with their art and voices. Nothing is better to me than that. If becoming one of those dreamers means feeling lonely, suffering, struggling and fighting at times, well I am ready and willing. What the dreamers have done for me is unlike anything I´ve ever felt. The beauty and the brightness I get to see on the other side is bliss. That bliss makes the pain worth it. On days like today I needed that reminder.

At the end of the day I ask myself one simple question. Would I trade my life with those whose life “makes more sense?” Would I want to be them? Would I return this very unconventional life that I´ve chosen for myself for one that fits perfectly inside a box and make it easier on myself? Not for a second. Not now, not ever. Because in the end, it might hurt but not being myself is suicide and life is too valuable to waste.


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