Four months ago, I asked a question. Another question followed, and another. There are always questions; the answers, it would appear, are a little more elusive.
Last year was indubitably the worst year of my life, filled with trauma after trauma. Trauma is a funny thing. And in the aftermath of trauma, people have a variety of reactions. We change. We shuffle about, try to reestablish our place in the world.
Each day, I search for a connection to myself in the things that surround me. One day I find myself with Ingrid Michaelson, another day I find myself a Muse. One day I am in Wicker Park, another day I am Serenity. One day I am fighting zombies, another day I am a vampire. I make choices. I make sacrifices. I sacrifice comfort and companionship for love - or at least, the hope of love. I sacrifice the safety of normalcy for acceptance of what I most love about myself - the ability to live completely in my mind, in the things that I see and then put onto paper.
Is this the dark path? The light? Does it matter? I don't know. Will I succeed? I don't know. Will I be happy? At times. Will I ever get one thing that I want? Yes. If nothing else, I will be myself. I will create worlds and characters and bring this strange and wonderful universe to life. If the only love I find is love for myself or the love I give my characters, it will be enough.
It has to be.
Last year was indubitably the worst year of my life, filled with trauma after trauma. Trauma is a funny thing. And in the aftermath of trauma, people have a variety of reactions. We change. We shuffle about, try to reestablish our place in the world.
Each day, I search for a connection to myself in the things that surround me. One day I find myself with Ingrid Michaelson, another day I find myself a Muse. One day I am in Wicker Park, another day I am Serenity. One day I am fighting zombies, another day I am a vampire. I make choices. I make sacrifices. I sacrifice comfort and companionship for love - or at least, the hope of love. I sacrifice the safety of normalcy for acceptance of what I most love about myself - the ability to live completely in my mind, in the things that I see and then put onto paper.
Is this the dark path? The light? Does it matter? I don't know. Will I succeed? I don't know. Will I be happy? At times. Will I ever get one thing that I want? Yes. If nothing else, I will be myself. I will create worlds and characters and bring this strange and wonderful universe to life. If the only love I find is love for myself or the love I give my characters, it will be enough.
It has to be.
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