Not too long ago, a good friend of mine, one of my best friends in the world, said he'd be interested in reading a blog about myself. I thought about it, and after some people stated it might help me less of a selfish pig, I decided I'd do it. So here I am, starting this thing off.
When people look at me, they see that happy-go-lucky kid who makes jokes at himself so he can edify. They see a Biology major who always is on top of his homework; they see a great public speaker, and a silly yet serious intellectual. They see a proud Sunday school teacher, and someone who believes very well in tolerance. They see someone who is always politically correct, and someone who does his best to help when they can. They see someone who wears Christian t-shirts and semicolon drawn on his right wrist.
They don't see me. They see a mirage, a broken dream, if you will. Someone I am...but I cannot be. They don't see the real me. They don't see me drifting around the dark side of the web. They don't see me hike my pants up in fear people may see the scars on my waist when I stretch and my shirt lifts. They don't see nightmares 4 times a week, or the inability to focus on something for more than 45 minutes. They don't see someone who hides secrets from his pastor, and half-planned escape roots from his friends. They don't see someone groveling on all fours in his room while he begs that God takes his own life from him because he's too weak to do it himself.
And, just what then, do I see? I don't see anything. My eyes have been fooled so many times, they just give up working. I don't see myself in 5 years, doing this, that, or anything. I see myself in the same place I've always been. Eyeing that bottle of bleach in the corner of my room. I don't see the light, and I don't see how dark this place has gotten.
When people look at me, they see that happy-go-lucky kid who makes jokes at himself so he can edify. They see a Biology major who always is on top of his homework; they see a great public speaker, and a silly yet serious intellectual. They see a proud Sunday school teacher, and someone who believes very well in tolerance. They see someone who is always politically correct, and someone who does his best to help when they can. They see someone who wears Christian t-shirts and semicolon drawn on his right wrist.
They don't see me. They see a mirage, a broken dream, if you will. Someone I am...but I cannot be. They don't see the real me. They don't see me drifting around the dark side of the web. They don't see me hike my pants up in fear people may see the scars on my waist when I stretch and my shirt lifts. They don't see nightmares 4 times a week, or the inability to focus on something for more than 45 minutes. They don't see someone who hides secrets from his pastor, and half-planned escape roots from his friends. They don't see someone groveling on all fours in his room while he begs that God takes his own life from him because he's too weak to do it himself.
And, just what then, do I see? I don't see anything. My eyes have been fooled so many times, they just give up working. I don't see myself in 5 years, doing this, that, or anything. I see myself in the same place I've always been. Eyeing that bottle of bleach in the corner of my room. I don't see the light, and I don't see how dark this place has gotten.
