Aug 19
I have been living in Las Vegas for almost two weeks now, fighting the need for a personal journal entry on a nightly basis. I know that this account will fall into the category of entries seen as necessary and cathartic at 1am on a Thursday, but as giant mistakes come Friday morning. I’ve put it off, due to precisely this reason, for two weeks. I should know better than to ignore the impulse, the consequences are all too familiar. Restless nights split across angst filled days; the little sleep I manage tormented by painful thoughts. I am coming to accept that nightmares for grown ups don’t feature the monsters of our childhood but the demons of our pasts and futures.
I have a friend who would constantly fall asleep in class throughout high school. He was perpetually tired, you could read the exhaustion on his face, and fell asleep so often that it became a commonplace event – and more than once the subject of our jokes. It was a long time before I learned the reason he was so tired during the day was because he was unable to stay asleep at night. Nightmares plagued his sleep, keeping him awake even to the point of physical collapse. It was beyond my understanding at the time, and I’m not sure why he comes to mind now, but over the past few years I think I’ve come to appreciate his situation to some extent.
I came out to Las Vegas for several different reasons; most of them more complicated than a simple explanation could do justice. The whirlwind of the actual move kept my mind busy on the details – how will I get my furniture out there, I need to open a bank account – leaving me little opportunity to contemplate or analyze the consequences of my potentially rash decision. Living alone for two weeks in a city of strangers, thousands of miles from your family and the people you trust provides plenty of time for reflection. And even so, I find the task overwhelming. My heart and mind bristle to the point of rupture with all the emotions and thoughts I carry. Even when I try to sit down with my thoughts I can’t continue the conversation for more than twenty minutes at a time. Following the many lines of thought I never manage a resolution, only more questions, more doubts. The frustration keeps me awake to all hours and then follows me into my dreams.
I want to be strong. I want it more than any of you realize. I want to be the kid who has it all together; to be the friend that you can count on having all the answers. But sometimes I just want to scream away my aggravation. I want to walk out my front door, start running, and not stop until I don’t have the energy left to think. I want to take hold of my disappointment and cast it into the skies. I want to walk into the ocean. I want to stand alone in a field. I want to walk away clean, unburdened by the haunting memories of my past and lingering doubts for my future, start my life anew. I want to live my life in the now. I want to sieze this day. I want to be the inspirational poster. I want to fulfill the promise of my wasting potential. I want to be more than you ever thought I could be. I want to be just a fraction of what I know I can be.
I want all that, and considerably more.