“If I wished to have everything negative wiped from memory. I would have forgotten what I wished for.” Me
My mirror is broken, and still, my reflection is accurate. Key moments throughout my lifetime, shared with each shard of glass. Some I wish were tinted. My insecurity heightens as the congress of eyes focus in the direction of a man seeking no attention. Past attention wasn’t always kind to me. Before me, the weight lost years ago… clearly-still visible. One piece shows the little boy with a big head, soft voice and a walk to match. Teased for being smart, the gift of intellect felt like a curse. Another shard depicts a carefree teen filled with loads of aspirations next to a present me wondering if he will ever achieve them. I have tried to follow in the footsteps of my ancestors, only to stop and wish that my feet would grow bigger.
Moments create laughs, experiences drop tears and smiles hide stories. Once upon a time when my confidence was in its infancy; a kid born to stand out was dying to fit in. I didn’t lack friends and my “cool” was self-proclaimed. Moments of shyness were not because of my inability to speak; I didn’t want to be bothered. Words can make the mouth a dangerous firearm. Observation lessened the ammo that could later be used against me. Easily the my company could become a firing squad directed at me . Give me the stick and stones any day. When they said “words can never hurt me” there I sat in the background calling them all liars. The jokes were funny to them… not me. As they laughed, I conjured up an occasional smile. A childish way of seeking acceptance. Once in a while the attention was re-directed to another to take focus off of me. Sadly, the ones closest fell victim. Even though I was there to pick them up. I should have never let them take the fall. But when the spotlight focused on me, the personality shining from within couldn’t compete with its glow. You could see me frantically searching for shadows to hide among. There were none and I had to perform. The act was over once the act was over. No limo to take me home, just loving parents unbeknownst to what happened to me in school today.
Whoever said “what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” was correct. But surviving doesn’t always mean you are living, smiling doesn’t always mean you are happy and people will only see the tears run… when you can’t. While entangled in your safety net of silence, only you can hear cries for help. Not all memories are pleasant. Some haunt me as if my past were deceased. Even though they pale in comparison, in contrast my dark moments remain as vivid as the bright ones. One could say they are equally important. I don’t agree but began to learn to balance the two.
Time alone is an amazing tutor. However much my exterior changed my interior remained. My personality could never do a pushup nor did it ever need to. People with blurred vision should never provide insight. Why, When they walk away, their burdens become yours and you are left to carry the two. Some of my flaws are nothing more than their tatted viewpoints…worn by me. And they have grown with me. Leaving me a work of art. Not because im a masterpiece but because some of my days are spent attempting to master peace.
Your past may dictate your future but you do not always have to listen. Their chatter only gained attention when my conscious was too self-conscious to speak up. We, agreed to piece myself together and there came a day when he and I, once again stood face to face. This time our greeting was different. The boy in front of me faced the man he had become. There was no exchange of shaken hands, spoken words or flaws to fixate upon. We focused on us -thus beginning to see eye to eye. A mutual respect was given to what was mutually reflected. The chip remains but the weight on our shoulders were lifted away. As as we began to walk away, he and I smirked. We didn’t realize this earlier but now it was clear to see. That mirror was never broken… all this time… it was me.