Nothing to see here (just another downfall)

by Charlotte E. Wilde

We gravitate towards those who seem as mired in the thicket of their misery as we know ourselves to be. One day does this stop being a question we ask and start being a status-quo we’re no longer even attempting to hide? We do not resent those who have found their happiness for that happiness as-such, but hold them at a disdainful distance because we fear to find ourselves reflected in their smile.

Maybe ‘happy’ isn’t for everyone. Maybe the best thing to do is to hang the shrouds of our mourning across the shoulders of another who has already found his way through the quagmired mess into the bleach-white land of acceptance. Yes, if I must be a tethered rock I’d rather not envision myself tugging at the throat of an otherwise hapless bystander.

Certainly, the pain comes from questioning what we see in the mirror. I could learn to look away but it’s like a train-wreck calling me rubber-necking back.

 

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