Thirty days. Thirty days is all it takes.
Over the last twenty-nine days, we’ve experienced joy,
wonder, excitement, fun and far, far more. We’ve had smile filled adventures, mildly
planned for the future, and expressed so much to each other. It’s been wild,
silly, filled with laughter and the wonder of two people that really, really do
like each other.
On the thirtieth day, I did something wrong. Nothing that bad, nothing to annoy the neighbours, scare the dogs or wake the dead. It was an event, a moment, that could have been overlooked or, even, discussed and worked upon. For every eventuality, there’s options, solutions and forward paths.
Upon that day, your mind started to play the usual games.
The devaluation. The worry. The thoughts forming scenarios within your mind. It
won’t work, it’s never going to happen, it’s over and now, just now, you’re
looking for a way out. It matters not that the same circular scenario has
played out again and again in our lives, as we often don’t realise that ‘we’re’ also the one
with the issue(s), repeating and playing around within our minds. I know, as
I’ve been there and resolved. It is a never-ending journey of realisation and
healing. We all have issues and, if we’re aware, we can resolve them.
It escalates within you; it then escalates around you.
Growing. Placing roots, despite your other thoughts trying to move the ship
away from the storm bashed rocks. This shouldn’t be a shipwreck. You distance
yourself, hurting the other person on purpose, asking them to bridge the gap
that they, often, don’t even realise exists. This wouldn’t be a total loss if, maybe, upon
a sun filled day, we evaluated and communicated our fears and follies.
Instead, we ruminate, procrastinate, devaluate and cast
aside something or someone that offers us such affection, that the angels
themselves shake their heads in disbelief. I’ve been here, there, on both
sides, so I’m no angel. I understand or, at least, I do once I’m far, far over
on the other side. It’s now, as well as forever, too late. You’ve become nasty,
the spite filled words affording the other person confusion, as they retreat
within themselves.
Upon the thirtieth day, we seemingly forget the previous
twenty-nine days. We disavow the moments, the kisses, the sordid promises made
within the darkness of emotion, choosing, instead, to escape to the green grass
of freedom. Selected solitary confinement, chosen away from the wilds of being
cared for. Such an easy decision, for a society filled with vapid options. We
then quickly embrace another, to escape the hollow feeling, the odd behavioural
nature of a child trapped within. We cast aside the person that loves us, to be
with another to fulfil our selfish pain and suffering. The scales, however,
never balance upon such an action. What once was, no longer required to fill
the never-ending void of empty feelings. The discarded person, perpetually
looking for rescue, with no sea faring vessel within view, struggles. The arms of
another not being an option, to such a crippled individual. The only option,
being learning and development. The leaving party, resolves themselves to
simply having fun until the ramifications appear within their emotions. Still,
as mentioned, too late for a reprieve, as we have to first become 'better' versions of ourselves.
Eventually, one day within another range of thirty, we look
back upon what we could have had. We look back to see what we let go of. It’s
too late. It’s done. Despite the twenty-nine days of wealth, prosperity,
abundance and gratitude for wishes fulfilled, we allow our insecurities and
past traumas to rule our worlds. It is a shame, it is a baseless wish, for
people to fix and fulfil themselves before destroying another. We seldom
embrace the fixing of oneself, until we ourselves, are abandoned. The abandoner
remains to commit the same mistakes, as well as sins, again and again whilst
pointing the finger to others. The selfish nature of a trapped child revolving
around and around. However, there should be no blame in a game that involves two. Or maybe, even three.
Our egos cannot ‘possibly’ commit a wrong upon another, when
that same said ego believes that we are the wronged. We believe that we simply
cannot find the correct person to love us, yet, right in front of us, stands a
person that would build a veritable castle upon the words of our name. It is
the way of the world. It is natural, the nature of things, with the circus
performing the same dance again and again. We are all broken and yet, once cast
aside, we grasp the eventual opportunity to gather wealth to our knowledge. It
is unfortunate, that another has the moment to hold a better version, instead
of becoming better for the person we once wished to love. We are unknowing,
until we’re forced to know. We are without, until we reach within.
Maybe, just maybe, we’ll one day manage to reach the thirty first day and then, we can hold a hand forever or, at least, tell no lies when wishing for something more. Thirty days simply isn’t enough, for someone that has no intentions of actually trying to reach the thirty first day.
