Perfection at a Loss

You know that feeling you get when you realize you're wrong and your stomach feels as if it has been beaten for hours on end with a baseball bat?

Or how about the feeling of potential failure? The feeling of complete uncertainty that puts you in the most vulnerable state of mind. You can feel every pulsation your heart makes as blood flows rapidly through your veins.

I have this feeling every time I open my eyes in the morning. Everyday I think to myself, "okay, what's next?"

I have grown to be more optimistic. But my new-found optimism has only caused more damage than good. My willingness to hold one to a higher standard or take the time to understand someone and their ways have only led to greater disappointment.

There is a reason why I have standards for myself, my friends, and the one that waits for me. I can never willingly let myself feel the anger, disgust, and hatred that I have felt so many times before as my heart has been gnawed away by the demons of lost love.

My heart is wrapped in a shroud. It is dead. It has been for so long. It is cold. Completely numb. I am only waiting for you to resurrect it. Not you...but, you. Yes...you.

I have been battling within my mind if this is even right. Am I just a hopeless, lost soul roaming around in an abysmal pit of flaws. Or am I just being shown that before I can rise, I will have to fall?

So I leave the way I came: equally confused yet determined to fix the laws that dictate my flaws. Miracles can happen, right? So there goes my mind, ticking away like the second hand of a clock, so eager to reach the paradise of 12, where all the hard work will be appreciated and the minute hand will budge, just slightly, as a gentle gesture of thanks.

-R.