Tangled Turmoil
Flipping through the sheaf of music, I saw the teardrop notes resonating with their unique character only I could hear. Closing my eyes, I saw the music come alive, feeling the rhythm of the song as each note swept by, along a riverbed of black pearls. The notes slowly imprinted themselves against my consciousness, becoming an entity that melded with my own.
As I read the music, the words ate away at the lock and key of my emotional vault. When the lock fell away and the gates swung open, a wild storm of unimaginable proportions careened across the plain of my soul destroying every living thing in its path. I was sad, angry and bitter to no end. Try as I might, it was inescapable.
The battle stretched across the vast valley between the peaks of the heart and the mind. They each spoke to me in passionate tones, struggling to coax me onto their path. “We’re the righteous ones,” they both cried. Each trying to persuade me to listen and learn from an unseen wisdom that I somehow knew existed.
In that instant, I gave in to the anger and bitterness that I had held at bay for so long. Perched there in the bleeding blackness that was consuming my sanity, bit by bit, I found it hard to come to terms with rejection. What the hell did Andrew have that I didn’t? Why was he with her instead of me?
—–
The room was quiet, as we waited for our teacher to come start our practice session. I avoided her eyes and ignored her, lest I unleash the strife that raged inside of me. I wanted to confront her and demand an explanation, but I knew better. She had no answers and there were no answers that could satisfy my bloodlust anyway. I sat there, sullen and crouched in my own personal hell, letting it fuel the darkness that had already consumed almost every part of me.
“Hey, you ok?” she quietly asked.
“I’m fine.” But we both knew that I wasn’t. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to scream and yell about how it was unfair? Was I supposed to hammer away at her defenses and make her feel guilty for the way I felt now? Should I just make her feel worse just so I could feel better?
Even with all the anger and resentment I had bottled up, I still cared for her very much and I’d rather stew in my own juices than take it out on her. She was undeserving. But a part of me wished that she could feel the torment that I felt whenever I saw them together and whenever my mind was at rest.
“Please tell me what’s wrong.” she pleaded.
“You really want to know?” I replied.
“Yes, please, I don’t know what to do or what to say. I see you act this way and…but I’m powerless to do anything.”
“Sad and powerless? Welcome to the club,” I bit out, unaware of how I sounded.
“I know that you’re hurt, but you’re still my friend. I just don’t know what to do anymore…” and tears started to roll down her cheeks.
Looking at her start to cry, a part of me felt glad. Glad that she was being made to suffer as much as I was. Sitting there, watching her cover her face in despair, I started to feel terrible. Not only did I let my bitterness overwhelm me, but now I felt guilty for making her feel like she was responsible.
Not being able to look at her tearful face, I grabbed my bag, shoved a desk aside, knocking a chair over in the process and bounded up the steps of the choir room and out into the sunshine. I couldn’t stay there any longer.
I ran.
I ran to get away; to be free of the burdens of my pain. The concrete fell behind me with each step, increasing the distance between the source of my pain and myself. At least that’s what I believed. Reality reared its head and showed me that there was no place on earth that could shield me from the sorrow I carried. When my feet hit asphalt, I stopped in my tracks. Tears had streaked my face during my sprint. The tide of emotional chaos rolled over me and I shuddered in my grief. Putting my hands on my knees, I leaned over and closed my eyes.
Why wouldn’t this just simply end? I could have simply let it go, but I couldn’t. The war within me refused to let up, each side giving no quarter. The clashing feelings I had rode me like a jagged lighting bolt, shearing through walls and shattering my resolve.
Consumed by the turmoil inside, I didn’t feel the hand on my shoulder until I felt a slight tug. Turning around, I looked straight into his eyes. There was anger there, brewing just beyond the horizon and it was approaching fast.
“Hey, I wanna talk to you…”
Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.
