Bookmark #233

Exhaustion came in a plethora of flavours. Yet, there was one that many people did not know about. It was the exhaustion of starting again. It was easier to start again when you could forget things as quickly as most people did. Some of us, however, some like you and me, were cursed to remember, and so, we tired faster.

Of course, to get back up by yourself and start again was virtuous. Yet, there was a limit. How many times could one dust themselves off and continue walking? No matter how tenacious someone was, I believe, they tired eventually. Especially if they couldn’t forget things, like you and me. That was our curse.

We wanted to be better, and so we never forgot. Getting back up, however, was half of it. Often, the sun did not break for years, and sometimes, things came crashing down from all ends. To start again, you needed something to stand on. What if the Earth slipped beneath your feet as it did mine? You’d fall and you’d remember it.

No one could understand the exhaustion of starting again anyway. They wouldn’t know the weariness of reinventing yourself continually. It was a perfectly reasonable option, then, to stop being what you’re expected to be, to stop doing what you’re expected to do, and to shut yourself off.

All that to say, if you’re like me, you may give up. On the off chance you’re better, which I believe you are, you can rise up to what is expected of you. You could get back up again. You could repeat the same mistakes; forget a little if you have to. You could get out of your head and become who they think and say you are.

If you’re better than I am, you could accept the responsibility with grace. You could step up to the expectation and fill the shoes waiting for you. If the shoes don’t fit, don’t worry; try sliding your feet in and walking anyway.

You may stumble a bit, but you’ll grow into them, eventually. And if you fall again, remember: if there’s anyone who can get up again, it’s you.

You’re better than the most of us.

// if you want to support this walk to nowhere, you can pitch in here