This is Me Being Optimistic

As of late I have been trying to forgive without forgetting. I’ve been forgiving my family, my friends, and myself for the things we all did and said and also all the things we didn’t. I’ve been relieving myself of the weight I’ve been carrying all these years. It's been holding me down and it’s a real drag, this weight. I’ve been finding ways to release, finding places to put things, finding ways of letting it go anywhere but here without regret or remorse or blame.

All I’ve ever asked of life is a little joy; to want what I need so I can cough up and spit out the rest. In some ways I have everything, but I am still not satisfied. I still haven’t found a way to be happy and I still don’t trust those who are always smiling. There really must be something wrong with those people who’s faces are fixed like jokers. What they suffer from is indeed worse than any insanity I have ever endured and their affliction is something I do not desire. A little joy is all I need and I’ll accept as much as I am rationed and not complain about the size of the portion. I’ll take what I can get even though it's not enough.

I’ve been finding words lately in places I have not yet explored. I’ve been digging deep and I’ve been climbing back out of these holes too. It thickens my skin and I wear it like armor. This is where I find my peace without religion, or 12 step programs, or medication. In these places of solitude, the dark thoughts and memories no longer hurt. I conquer my demons here and emerge with power and the strength to continue moving up field. And out come the words. They flow and flood and cleanse me until I am no longer dirty. I have given life to myself once again, but the smile's not there, only my prose. These words are my weapons and there are still many fights left to fight and I'll let the others have their smile because I can’t seem to find a happy place to put smiles right now.

I am not dead yet because I refuse to die and that counts for something, to the one who's keeping score at least. I am also no longer afraid of the dark and that counts too. If I’m lucky the joy will be found, the words will wash over the page, my demons will be put to rest, and I will fight death one more time.

Even if it kills me.