There are days I wish I was someone else, living a different life. Perhaps, someone who was not kind. It has piqued my curiosity for a long time now. What if I was not a kind person? What if I was not patient enough? Who would I be if my life had turned out differently up to this point, if I had been raised differently, if a few days that changed how I looked at life did not happen at all? When I think of this, it irks me. It’s natural, of course, but what of someone who was otherwise? They would not be so uncomfortable with this thought. In fact, their days would be dictated in an attempt to be untoward or hasty or unkind. We were a sum of our experiences, but what if I had seen different things?
My obsession with kindness, patience, consistency was appreciated by those around me. It was how I had built up the little reputation I had—which was nothing in the large scheme of things, but I was often complimented for one of the three in that list. I believe they are my strongest virtues. But I was tired of kindness. I wish with all my heart to lash out now and then and not feel an ounce of guilt, without it being a bother. And I was tired of patience, of waiting silently for years, invisible, while the world went on about its business. And what of my consistency? I was exhausted. I have been tired for years. It was all I knew how to do: to move consistently, to work consistently, to write consistently, to love consistently. But I was so tired. I could gouge my eyes out. I could pull my hair out.
I often look at other people when sitting or standing by myself in a crowded space. I notice their little quirks, and often, a look is enough to know what I would give to be like them for a day—oblivious, uncaring, without ambition or thought. This obsession with righteousness had gradually become my fatal flaw. I did not know how else to exist, but I wanted so much to try. I had been myself for too long. It was slowly becoming clear to me how in the long tally of things, my virtues, not my sins, would become the cause of my greatest tragedies. But that was no reason to act otherwise. At least, not today.