Am I losing you?

 

Am I losing you? It seems like our trust is slowly being taken away. Our memories are fading to black. Our experiences are feeling decreasing meaningless each time they arise. My heart is on a roller coaster of emotions that I didn’t buy a ticket for, and for some reason the ride won’t stop. It won’t end. I want to get off the ride. I’m begging. I’m pleading. But for some reason, the ride won’t stop. They won’t let me off. You won’t let me off. You won’t let me go. Everyday there is repetition. We go around the curves. Up and over the bumps. The hills get steeper. The drops get farther, taking my breath away more and more each time. Taking my life away more and more each time. No freedom. No choices. Just one path. One course. One destination. At first, the ride was fun. I was able to raise my arms in the air without a care. I was able to lean back, let go of the handle bar, and scream. I was able to let it all out. But now, there is nothing to let out. My arms don’t rise into the air anymore. My hands don’t leave the handle bar anymore. They refuse. They refuse to let me lean back. They refuse to let me scream. They refuse to allow me to let it all out. I can only “enjoy the ride.” Such a simple phrase that every ride includes. They list all the stipulations you are supposed to follow. All the rules you can’t break. All the things you can’t do. You just have to sit there in a box and “enjoy the ride.” But is it really that easy? Is it really easy enough to be imperative and expect everyone to do as you say? You can pretend while they pretend. Even I pretend. I pretend that my life is not a routine. I pretend like each lap around the course will be different. I close my eyes and pretend that the ending will be different. At the end of the course, when I finally open up my eyes, the reality sinks in. The disappointment I had feared is blatantly spilled before my eyes. It’s the same. It always has been. It always will be. So when I ask if I’m losing you, the question is rhetorical. It’s not a matter of if I’m losing you or anyone else for that matter. It’s a matter of whether I’m going to allow our trust to be demolished, our memories slip through the cracks, and our experiences together feel the same every time. It’s a matter of whether or not I’m going to jump the ride. Of whether or not I’m going to break the rules, the stipulations, the things I can’t do, and do them all anyways. You and many others will always be there waiting for me to lap the course with them for a while. To “enjoy the ride.” You and many others will close their eyes and will pretend they enjoy the ride. You’ll take me and many others through all the twists and turns, up and down the bumps, and you will just sit there. You will just sit there in your little box holding the handle bar. You and many others will one day open your eyes at the end of the course you’ve been lapping around your whole life, and realize you are in the same place you’ve always been. You went along and avoided the change, but the change still happened around you. Before your eyes, will be the disappointment you never saw coming. You never saw it coming because everyone left. No -one will be there. So I ask you again. Am I losing you, or are you losing me?

 

Are you there Prince Charming? Are you there?

Sometimes I feel like a toy. Like an inanimate object kept around for pleasure of when someone gets a little bored. Some men like to make us feel that way these days. They all convince us that they really LOVE us. That we really MATTER. When in reality, we’re just matter. They just keep us around for someone to listen to their problems when no one else will. When they need a little excitement in their lives. Then they come around. It’s sad but true. There is no more Cinderella and Prince Charming. The man that follows you home from the ball wants to take everything from you whether the shoe fits or not. He doesn’t care what he has to do to make it fit. It sounds crazy. Disgusting. Ridiculous. But it’s true. Every last word of it. But who is really to blame? Cinderella wouldn’t have gone to the ball without her Fairy Godmother. Maybe an everyday force in our lives is our Fairy Godmother. Making us feel like our dreams can be turned into reality. Getting us to a point where we just throw ourselves at them and hope for the best ending. The best outcome. The best fall. When we wish upon a star, is it really our luck that makes our dreams come true? Or is it the idea of a false reality where our dreams are being morphed into what society calls acceptable? What society calls right. Our innocent minds have been corrupted. We are no longer innocent bodies. Just innocent minds. Innocent minds that are naïve. That are deceived. Deceived on a subject so well known to man that it should do nothing but shatter our innocent souls and make us realize we are something more than ourselves. We instead are given the opposite. Our minds are shattered. Our hearts attacked. Our souls are relentlessly crying for help under the deep surface that embodies our every desire. Our desire to be loved. Our desire to matter. We desire to be convinced that all men are not the same. Are you there Prince Charming? Are you there?