Ownership

When I consider all the things I am powerless over in life, it gets disheartening beyond my ability to cope. I look at the path I am on and I want to run away from it all. I want to scream. How does one get to these sorts of hellish crossroads? It all comes on so smoothly that it would not appear to have been such a craggly, painfully jagged journey--one that has burned a hole in my tenderest of feelings and made ill use of the best I have to give. The loveliness of the finest moments had always been tainted by association, yet somehow I never realized how I had been working so tirelessly to look past the bad and see life with my rose-colored glasses. The effort is what exhausted me in the first place; the glasses shattered from overuse. To be more accurate, my hopefulness (which is somehow part of me and I cannot get rid of it) has been used up in this one area. I keep catching myself entertaining sparks of hope for other areas of life, even for other people, but there is not even a fraction of an ember left for this. The bridge has been burned. Ten times over, it has been burned. Almost daily, fuel gets force fed to the long dead flame and it is smothering everything and nothing that could never ever in a million lifetimes entice me to hope again. It is negativity on top of negativity, making so little sense that it just has to be left alone to deal with itself. It is sheer madness to give it any thought whatsoever. I am weary of allowing my heart to go on so disheartened. Recognizing that I have power to choose the direction I take at every turn, this crossroads was part of those choices; therefore, I shall choose again. I shall cut out the cankerous wounds and allow the healing balm of faith, hope, and charity to do their work. I refuse to run away. I might do a bit of yelling from time to time (yet only with very close friends). And I shall own this crossroads. Gladly.