Letting go. Such a simple thing to say. Yet insanely difficult. Is it truly the only path to restoration? Is it truly the only way to find peace? If it is, why can I not seem to pry loose my grip on this eternally loathsome subject? I hate it, yet I remain with a death grip on the insanity, unwilling to turn my back. Is it because it is so important? Or is it because I'm not strong enough to do what I must?
I trust the minds of others. The clarity. The wisdom. My own mind is too clouded with an angry ocean of emotions, trying to swallow my very being. They want me to let go. They want me to heal. They want me to rise above the fog and live. Yet I remain here. Why?
Answers. Do they even really exist? If they do not, I have lived in vain. How can I live out the remainder of my life in search of that which will never bring peace? Perhaps I have been further swallowed by insanity than I imagined. Perhaps the darkness is not as pleasant as first thought.
All I need to do is close my eyes and fall. What lies at the bottom, only time can reveal. Maybe the journey is not as bad as I once thought. For at least my love holds my hand.
