I don`t know when I first realised I`m not like the people around me. I had many signs along the way… but society taught me to interpret them as a pattern of disturbed behaviour. So the term “slightly crazy” seemed to fit me perfectly. And I tried to get in line, to create myself a so-called normal life. But I got so miserable, words can even begin to describe it.
Out of my mind, nonconformist, witch, dreamer, bitch… every word seemed to perfectly describe me at some point along the way. And as I was trying to fit in, I would erase the memory of my true feelings and desires.
I tried to hide in relationships, career, religion, science. All for nothing… Then, one day, I opened my eyes a little. I saw the sky and its blue pierced my very soul. I saw freedom there. The freedom I was running from from my very adolescence. The freedom that seemed wrong for the rest of the world. And a question rose to haunt me: “What am I doing?”.
I was killing myself. Always thinking there was time left… But years had gone by and I was still trapped, still trying to fit in a world that wasn`t mine.
Who was I ? Born in a country it didn`t feel like my own, leaving family and friends behind without a trace of regret, dreaming of the same guy for the last 15 years just becouse he was too far from reach but knowing the moment he was mine I`d get bored. I craved excitement and variety, I needed laughter and shouting, I yearned to be out in the open. I hated being the center of attention as much as I was calling it and I was dreaming of things I knew would never be. Denying my true nature was slowly destroying me.
When I met him I felt guilty. Guilty for betraying everything I had tried to built in the last years. But the need to feel more was stronger. And I allowed myself to be dragged in a different world. One full of adventures and laughter. A crazy world where anything was possible and movies were reality. A world where flying was possible. And slowly, my yearning became need. And those “a few more months and I`ll be free” weren`t enough anymore.
As the end was approaching, I thought I could get back to being my fake me, again. But the day he left, I didn`t cry. I didn`t feel sad or alone. The real me was still there, stronger than ever. And it began to ask its toll for the years of inprisonment.
The thing is, the real me is kind of like a dark conscienceness. And setting it free could be a huge mistake. For the part of me that is still good, and for those around me. The real me is crazy and impulsive. The real me is an actress and a cold-bloded killer. She doesn`t care about tears or duties. She runs from place to place and uses her actions to distract attention from her nature.
Yes, to the world I could seem crazy… but there are others like me. Nicer or borderline evil, some of the them have the courage to live openly. And when I realised he was one, I wanted to join him. But that little shread of humanity holding me still said “not yet”. I need to learn to embrace my nature and control it at the same time. I`ve been holding back for so long I`m afraid that if I break loose now I`d destroy everything in my path. I`m like a wild animal who`s found a way out of the cage. So all I can hope for is that I`m stupid or scared enough to stay in a little longer. Until feeding time is over and I`m full. That way only my need for liberty has to be satisfied and there will be no victims… That way I can stay sane.
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