We all carry something with us at some point in our lives. The choice we then have to make is if what we carry defines who we are. Everyone carries something different; for some, it’s their sexuality and the trouble they had accepting it. Others it’s their gender identity and the constant struggle of where they belong. For some, it is the childhood trauma they faced at just the ripe and impressionable age of five. Some carry more than others and some are so oblivious and shallow they do not carry much more than their name. There are also those who are overlooked, and in most situations, these are the people who carry the baggage and pain for those around them. They carry the emotional damage of their close friend which simultaneously lives with the pain this absent-minded and selfish friend causes them. They carry this pain silently and without a second thought. Abandonment, resentment, none of these feelings they carry can ever surface. These people are normally the ones who are least needed in the room when the population size is any greater than three, but most needed when the world of one of those people is crashing to their feet around them and there they are to pick it all up and carry those broken pieces.
i carry broken pieces and secrets, and i do so silently. i also write everything personal in the third person, this may be due to the fact i don’t know how to share what i carry, i am never the one who shares. i am simply the one who listens. People don’t carry my pieces, most don’t even know that i’m broken. i have come to believe that this is why i speak in the third person. i never learned how to share my demons, only knew how to tame and care for the demons of those around me. Since i myself never speak, i only seem to comprehend the emotion if i am not the one expressing it. i am the one who listens, the one who gives a shoulder to cry on, who cares for demons and lastly, i am the one who is never wanted until i am needed.
The people who carry for others have odd coping mechanisms and unique ways to take out anger. This is due to the fact that they cannot share the things they carry with others, it is kept bottled deep beneath the surface. Carrying more than your own secrets can feel like you are not only holding the world on your shoulders but the universe, each planet, star and piece of space trash resting on your back. You have become Atlas holding the celestial heavens for eternity condemned to silence. People who carry are trusted but not loved.
Feeling like an outsider in my own life, i tried to break my silence. i tried to express, i tried to share. i had reached out and as soon as i did, i felt a door slammed in my face, nobody believed me. What i had shared with the world seemed to be a semi-truck crashing into a freshly painted white picket fence. It was a never-ending car crash and i had become the victim of every careless driver’s actions.
i decided it was okay that i didn’t matter. i came to terms with the idea that if i left the room nobody would notice, and that was okay. Discovering more in myself and seeing that change can happen. Seemingly overnight my mindset had changed, maybe it was a dream or maybe a bridge in my mind finally connected to its destination but my heart was lighter and my mind seemed to brighten. Waking up with a spontaneous new sense of self a feeling of relief came over me, it was happening. Slowly i pulled each piece that did not belong to my puzzle from my open wounds and patched myself up. Knowing, sure enough, this change i had made would take time and even though my wounds are still open they are healing. i am making progress one step at a time, starting by addressing myself as I. I am just as important as every other person, and it is about time I treat myself as such. I am important.
I will no longer carry broken pieces, and I am okay with being seen as selfish for this. By putting myself and my broken pieces first I am enabling myself to heal. The weight of the universe is not my responsibility. My responsibility is to hold and cherish my star, my small but amazing star, hidden for so long among the planets and stars of others who never cared enough to make sure my star was still shining. I know that I will be told that I am acting differently. That I have changed.
And to that, I will simply smile and say “thank you”.
I really loved this piece. The use of punctuation or lack there of provides an interesting flare. I appreciate the vulnerability.
i liked the risk i took in this piece (and this comment 😉 ) with my choice to not use proper capitalization, in this my goal was not only to show in my writing but literally show a story as i wrote. This was a challenging piece for me to write seeing i struggle to write narratives in the first person. That is something i wish to improve on as i develope as a writer, but overall i like the emotion i was able to convey and the story i told.