I want to be treasured.
to have someone I feel safe to be completely open with.
No fears of backlash or being ridiculed...
Full acceptance.
I want the intimacy that comes with the frailty of honest sincerity.
But today I failed.
I got spooked.
I got insecure.
And I sinned. Trying to flee the fear of opening up and to outrun my shame, I committed a grave sin.
But my shame; this ugly insecurity that shades my life, was ever there. Staring.
Not in me, no. This Arlecchino-masked giggling... thing doesn't dare to follow me everywhere.
Rather, it isme that holds its hand and parades it around in my life, presenting it to my friends.
Alas, there it is; it lay's around the door.
My great trial.
The goal and highest degree of desire and fear I ever could muster.
The door hiding me, my true self. The person I really am.
Outside it, me, not knowing who I am but having the desire, need, and curiosity to dare open it up.
And between my goal and me, it.
My oldest acquaintance.
Funny enough, he is not the door's guardian or my oppositor, as one would think.
Dare I step forth, it will simply step aside and observe. As if it's certain of the outcome but mesmerized nevertheless.
It knows I'm the only one with power in here to decide, to touch, to do anything.
So it quiets down as I approach the door... as it can only observe.
But although authorty it lacks, a secret was bestowed on the creature.
It knows that the door can only be opened with true sincerity.
One cannot open it if they are holding anything back.
If their sincerity is not real the door won't budge, as these are holy grounds; and each step demands the devotion to make the next more sincere.
And once one reaches the door only then can the true self be revealed.
Each step I take is a spectacle for it. As my true weight is revealed, with each step shedding me of that which I am not.
Closer yet I get as I realize my naked body. Shedding my clothes and the identity they were meant to give me. Even my identity must be questioned for everything once picked up shall now be dropped.
The frailty and fear of being vulnerable last for a few more steps, as not only what I carry but even what I know is left behind; my opinions, feelings, and identity must be questioned.
It all sums up to things I must let go of.
Finally, here I am. Besides the beast; facing the door.
Many times I ran away. Many hurdles I had to face. My body, my age, my peers, and my personality all had changed.
Now all that's left is to turn the knob and see it, to meet the real me. That's the last step I know.
As my hand reaches for the door, my heart races. The creature beside me has its eyes wide open, not daring make a sound as its hands shoot up in front of its mouth.
Contemplation is the only expression it wears since I started shedding along the path.
Between my racing heart and the final step, I am reminded of its presence.
My old friend. My greatest shame and good mentor. My deepest anxiety. The fear of opening up.
As I think such thoughts these feelings, my creature and the door mixes up somewhere inside me.
Do I truly want to see it? I've shed so much there's nothing more to give than who I am. Was it worth it? Isn't what I have now enough? Am I not comfortable now? What if I dislike what's inside the door? What if I dislike who I truly am? Am I going to lose who I am now? What if such a pure and sincere being that never saw the outside gets hurt? I can't take any more damage; there's nothing more to shed!
I RAN! As fast as I could, picking up everything I had let go along the path.
The creature's giggling could be heard. After all, it saw something amusing again.
It saw me take all the steps, and by the end I still chose it instead of the one thing I wanted.
I chose to entertain its whims again, to parade it around.
To pick up the things I didn't need again
To hole myself up in who I used to be even though I went through such effort to leave these things behind.
To transform sincerity into shame.
It knows it won. I gave it victory.
In fear of losing myself, I didn't open up the door even though I know what's inside.
It houses a mirror. The final step to show me who I really am.
The greatest secret I so desire. The answer to who I am after there's only me left.
But I'm insecure; I'm scared.
I fear after living so long as someone else I wouldn't know how to live.
I got used to my fake things and gear looking at my own reflection.
I long forgot my face.
All of these are excuses, and I know it.
It is my desire to find deeper purpose and live a more sincere life.
But I got used to, comfortable even, with a life that's not my own.
With a face I've grown used to a long time ago and others recognize me by.
With my insecurity that goes wherever I bring it. Giggling at me. But carrying my shame.
For it knows that this is all a show and that I am but an actor for its entertainment.