Jaime McLaren

The Dark Space

There is a dark space in my mind where I tend to live most of my days. It used to be filled with much more light, but as time went on and people broke my trust and my heart the space became darker and darker. I’m consumed by this darkness. I’m convinced that I am unworthy of love and unworthy of light. I attempt to climb out of this darkness to feel the sun on my skin to see the light and to find the light that once shone brightly within myself, but every time I get close to feeling that light I am pushed back down in the darkness and further convinced that the darkness is where I belong, and that the light is a lie. I brought myself here, the lies I told when I was younger, the people I hurt and continue to do so. I was a fool to think I could ever leave the dark, a fool to think someone like me could ever live in the light. It was when I found my light and really held onto it that it was torn away from me abruptly and cruelly. I don’t deserve the light, I never did. I’m meant to give the light to others and help them out of the darkness, but I may not follow them. I must live out what is left of my days succumbing to the darkness and giving away what is left of my light. It was never mine to keep and I was a fool for ever thinking it was. As the darkness continues to consume my light I can feel the cold setting in. I picture myself trapped beneath the ice in the frigged water and watch as countless others get claimed from the ice and wait for someone to break through and not only reach me but pull me out. I’m losing energy, it’s becoming harder to read the water and stay close enough to the surface for someone to see me. I fight with every ounce of my being not to let go and just let myself slide down into the depths below, because I know once I do there will be no comjng back. Why bither though? Why fight the pull when it seems near impossible to break through that ice? When it seems like everyone else is content with draining me of my light and not giving anything back? It was easier years ago to find reasons to fight, reasons to live, but now it’s easier to find reasons not to. The only thing saving me these days is my ultimate fear of death and not knowing what lies beyond the dark. What if there is release? What if there is more light for ke to be born again from? Or, what if there is nothing? What if I just cease to exist? Does it really matter? If I am so miserable alive, why do I care what happens when I die? Why do I care what people might think of me? Or what people might find out about me? I’ll be gone, will they even notice? Those that have chosen to ignore the warning signs, those that have chosen to drain me of my light to keep themselves burning bright. So go and enjoy your light, enjoy the light I have given you, squander it away, flaunt it in my face and leave me to die in the dark. It’s where I belong, it’s where I have lived the past several years of my life and where I will spend the remainder of my days, however long that may prove to be.