My mother taught me what was commitment was like. She said it was like replying your penpal over and over even if you don't really want to, because you said you would, it was like making a sunny side-up for breakfast even though it was raining outside and the inside of your heart because "I have kids to feed", she said. You're going to tell me an entirety of excuses but the truth is that Commitment just isn't a word in your dictionary, it doesn't roll off your tongue the way it rolls off everyone else's, because it is only human nature to be selfish and to think only about yourself. Funerals aren't for the dead — they're for the living. If you go right now, you just pack up your suitcase — memories in the form of pictures, music in the form of scores, and you leave. You leave, and you don't turn back. We are left there to pick up our broken pieces. (there are none of yours to pick, because there were none to begin with) We are left there to sew up the patch where your outline used to be. We are left there to clog up the holes in the base of the life raft that you made when you left. And we're not drowning, no we're not, but we're sinking. We are sinking with each piece that disappears and the jigsaw puzzle we began with — I can't even differentiate the foreground from the back anymore because we are no longer one, we are no longer coherent. Neither is our picture. And it will never be.
(I haven't thought of a suitable title yet)
My mother always taught me that not everything you learn is painted as clear as the sky on summer mornings — white ink on black paper. Sometimes, you walk into the forest thinking you will learn about the trees and the bees and the canopy in between, but all you really learn are lessons from the bruises that line your thighs and the mud that stains your shoes. Life is a burden in its entire existence and at some point in your life, you are going to wonder why you were ever here. You will go through pain like you had to extract all of your wisdom teeth together. You will experience heartbreak over and over, and over again like your ribcage wasn't there to protect it. You will be a sort of tired that hours of sleep could never get rid of. You will be a version of yourself you never ever wanted to see. Some days, it's going to be hard to stand on both feet, especially when you have barely any ground left to stand on and you're lost because what exactly is it that you are fighting for? That's the funny thing about life, isn't it? We fight and fight and fight and it all narrows down to bloodbaths and death. But we all come out warriors. We all come out warriors. But when life hands you strength and wisdom on that silver platter, you're just going to ask for it to-go because staying around just isn't your thing, and I guess — neither is dedication.