Molting

I pulled into my driveway late this morning on an unplanned trip back home to pick up some things for class. I was listening to a somewhat melancholy Death Cab song, against the recommendation of my good friend Vanessa Fargo ("Quit listening to that depressing shit."). I sat still for a few moments just staring off into the distance, listening to the music, and a little creature caught my eye. However, it wasn't actually a creature. It was the remnants of a creature, the skin of a Cicada, left behind on the railing along the steps to my back door. It wasn't entirely apparent that it was just the skin from my car, but upon closer inspection, I could see the split right down the back from whence the fresh, new Cicada had emerged. I wondered if it was painful. I imagine that it must be. I imagine that it must be incredibly uncomfortable flying around in an old dying layer of skin. It must also be a bit disarming when the suit begins to split and the insect inside has to peel it's new skin away from the old skin in order to climb out.

Perhaps that is what this stage I am in is all about. I'm draped in the hopes and dreams I built for two years of my adult life. Not only are they draped over me, but they are also sealed tightly to my skin. They are dying now. I say dying because they are not dead yet. The worst part of this entire process is having to live with the fact that I am still terribly in love with Liam. I am in hopeless love. I cannot turn it off. Therefore, as the skin of these past years begins to die and crack off of my skin, I experience excruciating pain. Sometimes I imagine these memories tearing away from my being in the most violent and bloody way possible. I picture my tissue and muscle ripping and bleeding. It's the only way I can explain the emotional pain because it doesn't feel emotional. It feels frighteningly physical. I wake up in the night drowning in this pain.

My only hope now is that one day, the rift that has begun down the back of this old skin will be wide enough for me to crawl out of it. I look forward to the day that I peel myself away from this moment in time, stretch my new skin, and leave behind the shell for someone to find, for someone to find hope.

I still cry. I'm still frightened of the days to come. I make terrible mistakes, and I feel the darkness growing around me, but I will not give up on the light...as easy to do as it may seem. The only way out is to keep walking. The darkness can't last forever.