Monday, September 24, 2012

Weak Frame

Three small brown freckles caught my eye as I fished around to reach a faint itch on the squishy part of the back of my right arm. It was a part of my body I rarely see. My fingertips, calloused and cracked from my feeble guitar-playing efforts brushed over a patch of dry skin underneath my shoulder. 

I was suddenly very aware of my body. I also became acutely aware of the moments that encompassed me, which for days had threatened to crush my weak frame. 

I felt the breath fill my lungs after a quick inhale, and a pensive exhale. It was sharp, filling every corner of space as if desperate to feel anything more than the mundane. Even my own breath was frantic for a change of pace on nights like tonight. 

I felt the burning in my chest after eating too late for my own good. My thoughts, a mixture of lyrics and memories, wandered to a bottle of Tums that could soothe the dull burn. 

My legs, in their characteristic criss-crossed fashion tried to rejuvenate themselves as a familiar ache settled into my shins. 

A small knot in my upper back stole attention from my clouded mind as it grew tenser and tenser as my posture worsened. 

My hair, a tragic mess had begun to fall out of its tight messy bun and tiny, unkept wisps tickled my neck, ears and cheeks. 

My thoughts were on people tonight. People I had left behind. People I had sat on the grass with, sharing secrets. People I had loved. People who had carelessly tossed aside a part of my calloused, guarded heart. People who had taught me great wisdom. People who had let me down. People who love me dearly. People who make me laugh. People I had disappointed. People I had failed. 

Suddenly, I was horribly tired. It was a tired that extends further than the gauge of hours spent awake compared to sleeping. A tired deeper than running a marathon, performing a show-stopping number or dancing a finale. 

It was a tired that was rooted deep within my soul. A tired laced with fears and worries. Hopes and expectations. Hellos and goodbyes. I'm sorrys and I'll be betters. 

But I learned deeply and truly many years ago that a life worth living should be exhausting. Though I hide in my castle of walls, my eyelids heavy and my soul tired, a peaceful smile inexplicably forms on the corner of my lips. 

Life is for learning. Life is for loving. Life is for living. And despite the road blocks, the set backs and the moments of utter desperation. I remember that so far, life has been nothing but wonderful and awful surprises. 

All that's left for me to do is to walk forward. Live forward. Look forward. Love forward. 

It's easy to stay stagnant. But it's brave to stay moving. And despite my weak body, my soul was built for something greater. 

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