I have had enough. Too much time bowed under the pressures of life. Too much time with face in hands, sobbing; too much grief and tragedy.
A life gripped by fear and insecurity and regret. A life that stripped away the confidence that i once carried myself with. Determination to better myself swallowed by self-doubt. A half-life, more than a real one. An existence with the desire for meaningful human contact, coupled with difficulty not loathing most of humanity. A life bitter at the unfairness of it all, while feeling like a hypocritical monster because I have it better than so many. A life of dreams flown by, and out of reach.
It sounds all so familiar, like the dark thoughts that consumed my daughters soul, and eventually her life; a crippling dissatisfaction of what this universe has had to offer. Unable to count the diamonds of blessings among the piles of shit. The difference is I don’t have mental illness as an excuse.
So I come to the end of the rope, grasping feebly. And I choose to let go.
But I let go to something different from my end. I let go of my expectation of what life was supposed to be. I release my assumption that there should be fairness or balance or peace for us all.
No peace. War.
I choose to let go and fight. Fight a futile battle, against the universe. Against the cold and uncaring randomness, that cycles on and on, mindless of the struggles and pains that follow in its wake.
I will fight. To scrape every ounce of life from the universe. To extract every moment of care, love and happiness that I can either give, or receive.
The universe doesn’t care, my war against it is as meaningless as a speck of dust landing on an elephant. Irrelevant, meaningless and of no notice.
But I will fight. I will do my all to let my cherished friends and family know that I care. I will make life as meaningful as I can for me and my beloved. I will dance, and write, and drink, and laugh madly, sometimes when I’d rather crumple in tears.
I will live, and in doing so defy the grind of reality.
And in the end, it will win. One day, the universe will crush me in to dust like all those before me, and will go on and on as I slip further and further in to a place where I am not even remembered. I will lose battles; friendships valued may be lost. Those that once cared about me may stop. Disappointments will continue to wash over me like an endless tide.
I will stand at the grave of someone who I love again.
And I will die.
But I will go to me end with my arms raised in victory, not bowed in failure. That I fought, that I loved. And that I will be remembered, at least until those that remember me are also taken by ceaseless time.
As futile as a war as it is, I will not stop. A life any other way is not worth living.
I chose to live.