Your words stare at me from the screen of my cell phone. Words
like Concern. Blab and Rumors. Offensive and Sick. Rebuke with Anger. Risk, Damnation
and The Darkest Pit of Hell.
But these are not the words that my eyes are drawn to. Out
of all of these things, what sticks in my brain is the one word that should be the least
harmful.
Shock.
According to you, I like to shock people.
Mom and Dad, no. I have never enjoyed shocking you.
I never came to you, with my heart in my hands wanting your
disapproval. I never desired to look up from a moment of joy to see your faces
stuck in that twisted, pained expression. I never relished letting my truth
slip out only to be met with your disdain and I never yearned to have the core
essence of my being to be so revolting to you.
For years you watched as imitated a pretzel, weaving myself
in and around expectation after higher expectation, straining to one day be
found worthy of some peace, some praise, some affection.
And now at a time when my twisted, broken pieces are falling
away and I am finally pulling myself together, you get a glimpse of what I am
trying to build and you are shocked.
Well then; I will meet your shock with my Awe as I crash recklessly
into this light because I'll be damned if I continue to live up to your
standard of misery.
I would like to be
happy.
Maybe that's what's so shocking.
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