"Lost" has such negative connotations. We don't want to admit that we're struggling, trying to find a path and even though we can get quite far off the beaten path, stopping to ask for directions or pausing to scan a map is somehow against our nature.
It's as though it's a sign of weakness to ask for help, to ask for pointers or directions. The idea of being lost in a cornfield creeps me out, the idea of wandering through a forest or a foreign city without any inherent sense of direction, without any natural compass bearings--that's scary.
It's difficult enough to admit that we're lost driving down a back road in northern Ontario. It's even more difficult to admit that we have no idea what we're doing with our lives, aimlessly wandering about trying to make sense of whatever we're doing, attempting to justify our actions and somehow figure out exactly what we should be doing, etching out a rough sketch of how we think our lives should look.
Strange how we always always always think that we have total grasp on what would be best for us in our lives. We think that we know what we need the most, we think we know how best to fill those needs.
Sometimes it seems to me that we're all thirsty for something, but we can't figure out how to quench the thirst. We try coffee, gatorade, tea, alcohol, water...but we're still left thirsty for something more, and it's frustrating because there's nothing worse than not being able to quench the parched and arid longings. We just want some relief from the desert that we're in...
Of course I speak for myself. I wander around, thrashing like a fish that has been hooked and is slowly being reeled in...I'm fighting against something, against this unseen force that draws me closer and pulls me in, but it's a losing battle. I want to run and run and run away from this, away from the chaos that's deep inside me, away from all these things, but I figure like trying to satisfy the thirst, running isn't going to help me. I stop to catch my breath and everything will flood back over me, realities suffocating me...
I love him and I find rest in him...I also find fear and mistrust, I find myself overwhelmed, I seek shelter from whatever this is but I go back for more and more, because I can't stop myself. I'm on this ride, it feels as though it's out of my control, like sand trickling through my fingers, like trying to catch a wave, grasping a cloud.
I lay on the bed beside him and stare at the ceiling, listening to him breathing beside me, feeling his warm body against mine, curled around me, intertwined around my heart and my passions. Restlessness overtakes me for a few minutes and I resist the urge to get up and run, because I'm so so so afraid. I'm so afraid that he'll walk out and never come back. I'm afraid he'll come back and tell me he can't do this. I'm afraid of life without him but I also face him and feel trepidation at the thought of him woven into my future.
"Relationships aren't easy." I've heard this over and over and over throughout my life. "You have to work at it" is another mantra that people seem to recite, as though attempting to assure themselves that hard work will soothe their issues they face together. I've always been of the mindset that love come softly and easily, like the breeze that came through the open window this morning, the balmy February weather as confusing as his kisses and his whispers of endearments.
I've never been a person to be driven by fear. I've never allowed it to creep in and take over. Fear has never dictated my actions and I refuse to allow it now. I'm a bit, no a lot, lost in this whole thing, confused by it, trying to make sense without stopping for direction. My navigational skills are completely useless when it comes to matters of the heart.
Sihaam sits down on the arm of the couch and looks over at me, across the room. She starts crying and runs her fingers anxiously through her hair. "I feel like every moment I spend with him might be the last moment and I keep thinking about that...the fact that we might not be together next week...I've wasted so much time arguing with him and being stupid...I wish I had treasured every moment we have had together..." She slides down the arm and sits on the couch, legs pulled up in a protective stance, knees under her chin.
You can't defend yourself from love. There is no armour that protects you from the storm inside you. All you can do is believe that in the midst of that storm, the person is standing with you, is in your boat, is your lighthouse through the rain and clouds...
Thunder and lightning are beautiful and scary and such is the definition of this confusing love. Be still my beating wings of flights and let fears be allayed. I might be lost but I'm at peace with that knowledge because I'm lost with the right person.
Song to download: Let's Get Lost by Beck and Bat For Lashes. Upped here.