The Beginning
…just remember you don’t have to stop and think when it doesn’t matter what you think anymore. That’s the rule that was created when you made your choice, any choice – it doesn’t matter what you think, you just fill in the blanks and keep rolling, keep pushing, keep dragging, keep your hand as steady as you can and forget about whatever thoughts may be left. Relax and stop trying so hard; you’re tired, of course you’re tired, you are always tired and yet you always keep moving forward, asking more of yourself anyway. If one can admire oneself that’s what I admire the most about you. But most of all, remember patience: patience will yield your goals to you if you put in the work and just wait, just give it time, a steak marinating, a Thanksgiving turkey – things will develop naturally and as they should. Your body will give way to your demands as long as you are persistent and keep applying pressure, keep pushing, keep pushing, keep pushing…the prize is there, to actually be one of the best, to stand among those who find themselves on the podium, to know, for the first time, that you have no further to go down this road, that you reached the end and what you found wasn’t a pot of gold, wasn’t a naked woman holding the keys to a Porsche, wasn’t love or admiration or respect – at the end of the road you found a moment where there was no longer any doubt, one that will be forgotten by almost everyone except yourself, one that you can hold close on the hard nights and one that sits in the block of words that are used as your definition. It’s your answer to the half-assed signs of support, the look that you saw in others’ eyes as you proclaimed your goals to them in moments of trust and then hated yourself for, the look you found one day in the bathroom mirror staring back from your own eyes, the look that came with a tidal wave of rage so sudden that you don’t remember the wrath or the moment, just the broken glass and the bleeding hand. It was a holy moment and you didn’t go to the hospital, wouldn’t give up that space of time to others with cheap explanations, lies, or apologies – you stitched up your hand and shrugged later when others asked. You were now branded, you were forged in the fires of Fuck You and in the pain of a single moment, the streaks of red that owned the room, that now owned you, and you knew by finding pain you had found the best friend you would ever have.
You and pain, holding hands from the very first day.
