Sometimes I feel…and those times have started to increase in intensity…. That I’m walking down a dark corridor….
Its pitch dark and I don’t know where I’m going
I walk on, because stopping in one place too long means dying of suffocation
The walls feel like they’re closing in on me, and I continue to walk, occasionally feeling a door along the wall…sometimes I even stop to check if it’s open. And more often than not, it’s locked.
I hear laughter from the other side and I’m sorely tempted to join in. to sit with people and laugh my worries away, to not worry about what other people will think of my actions. To be impulsive for once and not look to others for approval
But shrugging that off, I walk, and sometimes I find an unlocked door.
People greet me and welcome me, and I’m delighted and I sit with them. And sometimes I laugh, I talk my heart out, I share my sorrows and weep with them over their own.
I gush over their achievements and modestly wave away my own.
But I always, somehow, overstay my welcome
And the people behind the door start to drift away
I sit and watch them leave
With every person walking away, my attempts to get their attention become more feeble. I give up, and I stumble back out into the corridor
Walking away, I look back at the door as it clicks shut behind me
Maybe next time, I won’t overstay my welcome
Maybe next time, I’ll make it till dessert
“Next time?” You ask
I’m walking in circles aren’t I?