Six

THE LOYALIST: Committed and Security-Oriented. Engaging, responsible - anxious and suspicious

I looked up at the world ahead of me and only saw limitations. It was full of twisted knives, deep drop offs, terrible hazards, and tumultuous winds that blew against me in every which way. I clenched my hands in ill anticipation as I witnessed the chaos unfolding before my eyes. In realistic acknowledgment, I knew I could never defeat this on my own. So, with a shaking heart, I frantically built my extravagant forts in a desperate hope that locking myself tightly inside them would somehow ease the insecurity swirling within me. Yet, my mind still felt enslaved to running endless worst-case scenarios that left my sense of wellbeing frazzled and weary. In hopes of finding a well-deserved solution, I kept my nose tightly pressed in the pages of my own history book and blocked out the world. Fear won’t go away, but somehow, I’ll scrounge together a way to keep it at bay.

When I took your hand all those years ago, I had promised that I would never let it go. I meant every word. I had promised to stand by you through everything. You became the keystone in the arch that I had carefully stacked brick by heavy brick. I eagerly appointed you as the authority in my life. It was a role that not many possess. I needed you because I knew I couldn’t possibly decide what the right answer was on my own. However, I knew that if I didn’t come to it myself, I could never trust it all. But I would hate to be held responsible, so I inevitably looked to you in every decision I relentlessly labored to find. You were the scaffold that secured my wavering heart in this stark black and white world.

I really don’t need much. Just stand by my side. Press your back up against mine and promise me that we’ll make it through. Gently hold my hand and tell me that it’ll be okay. Give me the courage I lack. I’ll undoubtedly trust your word this one time. So please don’t give me kind but ultimately fabricated lies. I only want the stark truth and I want to hear it from you. I just need to know that my choices are okay. I need to know that the ground I firmly placed my trust on was not wrong. Stand by me. Support me.

But when I reached out my hand you weren’t there. With a shaking heart, I desperately grasped the shadowed air that somehow suddenly struggled to enter my lungs. Was I wrong? No, I couldn’t stand that cruel reality. The truth was so much bigger than just me. I dutifully stood my ground under its protecting pavilion while trying to convince myself that I wasn’t hiding. Because honestly, I wasn’t. I’m ready to fight at any moment. I’ll fight anything that dares to hurt me or the ones I love. I’ll rage war on anything that has wronged me. That’s a promise I will keep. For I had said that I would stand here with you as my rock, and I had meant every word. I meant every single word. But I somehow couldn’t shake the gnawing question of if I had promised you that out of loyalty or dependency.

Honestly, what even is security? Is it found in brick walls, emotional control, social networks, towering monuments, and personified ideals? When will I know that I have enough? How can I face these building troubles lying right at my feet with calloused determination while the very ground beneath me is crumbling like stale bread? How can I, when I only see cruel blacks and whites? How can I when my anxieties are building like layers of suffocating snow? I so desperately wanted to feel stable and secure. Yet, I somehow feel as though I have taken shelter from this terrible storm in a house made of paper. When will I feel safe enough? When I feel sure of myself? How could I ever when these thick walls that were supposed to keep me safe suddenly feel like granite prisons, as if I was the one that created my limitations?

But I’m still scared and worried about the many ill outcomes that could manifest. In a fit of panic, I cast my mind into every direction I can think of to search for anything that can keep me sane. I endlessly tilt between fear and courage, thinking and doing, believing and doubting, judging and accepting, giving and withholding, defending and provoking, loving and running. Either way, once I finally decide, I promise I’ll never abandon it. I’ll sink with my ship if I have to. I’ll grasp the cracked stone I chose to stand on with every fiber of my being. I’ll remain loyal to the end. That is the greatest honor I’ll believe in.

Really, I’m not asking for much. Just stand by side and tell me that somehow, we’ll be okay.

It will be okay.