For a few weeks now, I have had that ache. I've been asked if I am depressed, and I can truthfully say that I am not. I ache for something that I cannot see though. There is something out there I am supposed to do or say or be that I can't get to yet. It is an overwhelming feeling that I am not used to being tuned in to.
Sometimes, I feel as though I am on the right track, and although I look and sound like I am confident, my path seems a bit too complicated to me. I know what I feel I should do with my life, but I am not sure how to incorporate it into my daily living. How contrite I sound even talking this way, but it is that weight, that anchor that is heavy inside of my body that I hear, feel, even hold.
It is a weight, and yet it is also an electrifying feeling that I know something is around the corner for me. I have that feeling a child has looking at the presents under the tree and wondering what is behind the beautiful packaging. So, I spend my days waiting, watching and hopefully reading what it is I am supposed to be doing.
While I write this, I am sitting in the front room looking out of the front door that is open. There has been a slight overcast and the wind is blowing the clouds toward me. I say me because it is my world that I am living in. I watch as the ex marine rides in his hover-round with his missing legs, both from the knee down and ask myself why I have never told him thank you. It is because it would take me outside of my world, where there is safety and quiet. He is a very kind man. I met him once while doing laundry. He had a small cardboard box full of wash rags and kitchen towels that needed to be washed. I watched silently at first as he tried to maneuver the washing machine while his automotive seat hindered some of the buttons needed. I slowly rose from a bench I was on and took his laundry soap and finished the job for him. It wasn't until I was through that I realized that maybe he didn't want help. He had a smile on his face and thanked me. ME? I only did what my mother would have done, what she taught her children to do.
It was that day, with the ex marine who had sacrificed his lower limbs while on duty, that I began to ache inside. I still don't know what it is, but I bet it has to do with someone other than myself. It will come to me, I just don't know when that will be. I've went over so many scenarios in my head until it too felt a burden. Do we all have that ache? I've never discussed it with anyone to know how prevalent this ache is. I don't even know what words to use for it. Me, someone who can describe anything, and I can't describe this stupid ache that I am having.
So, my ex marine is riding around outside, just looking at nature, feeling the wind blow against his body, letting the sun nourish his body and he looks as though all is great in the world. For some, I think it is. I think he has the right to finally feel his world is great. In my selfish mind I wanted to feel sorry for him, wanted to think he needed my help, wanted to be important. I never thought about his perspective. I've never seen him without a smile on his face. His daily activities seem to stay the same, not a lot of change and it looks like he feels fine with that. He seems happy, and yet I look at him and wonder where I have the the audacity of ever being depressed, or sad, or even upset.
So, my path is beginning to become wider. I've came out of the narrow and straight to one that gives me a chance to look around, see more than what is in front of me, see others as they are and not what I imagine them to be, see things clearly and without a distorted glass to hide behind. I am ME. I say that a lot and now I mean it. I have a place to go, a place to be and I'm on my way. I just wish I understood what this ache is that I have, that my body feels, that my mind cannot figure out. This ache is my path, it will show itself one day and I am no longer on that narrow road so I should be able to see it's light when I get there.
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