Sunday, February 24, 2008

No Air

There's a song by Jordin Sparks called 'No Air', and my favorite part of it goes like this:

But how do you expect me
To live alone with just me

Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air
Can't live, can't breathe with no air

If I had a dollar for every time I felt this way, I'd be able to pay my way to college, no sweat.
The fact is, I feel somewhat like I've lived half my life with no air. I consider myself to be a creative soul, someone who appreciates good writing and art, and living where I do, I feel very deprived of the latter. This area is devoid of most types of cultured living, and the majority of it's residents don't seem to mind. Except for this one.
I have that inexplicable desire to run away and live in a sleepy little hamlet in France, or go to New York and learn to appraise art. I want so much more than what I have here, but I don't know how to get it.
Don't get me wrong, I have a wonderful life. I know that, and I am extremely grateful for it, but when I look into the future, there is this frighteningly real image of me being 27, married to some guy, with 3 kids and no real life. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, not at all, but I just don't want that for me. I want a chance to live my own life before I devote it to someone else.
But I also don't want to live my life alone. I've been alone for my whole life, in a way that most people aren't. I've never had that bond of brother- or sister-hood, never had that friend who was so close that they were practically a sibling. Hell, I've never even had a pet that close. I've found a few people now who are amazing at making me feel not alone (holla my hoho), but at the end of the day there's still that sickening, gnawing feeling that I will have to wake up tomorrow and face the world entirely alone. I'm ready for that to change.
I guess all that I'm saying here is that I'm feeling particularly trapped right now. I feel that I'm drowning in this place I've called home, but I'm so afraid to leave that I'm paralyzed. I have the life support, but I need to unplug it. I need to breathe.

2 comments:

Mercedes said...

Wow that actually makes you stop and think when things are put into prespective like that. I can say I fully agree to the feeling of waking up alone. There is just this inner turmoil that you're in a repetitive worm-hole that can never be escaped no matter how hard you try. Only thing I can say about how you feel you are trapped and how you would love to learn to appraise art in New York, its so simple to say and so hard to live by but as someone recently told me, life is a ride with a one-way ticket. So even if it takes some manual labor to rip out that plug do it before time runs out and there isn't any more air to breathe...

Marlene said...

Keep up the good work.