Hejira (____hejira) wrote,
Hejira
____hejira

LJ Idol: The Otherness

It's too early to be sitting here on the cold winter sand, alone with the newborn sun so pink and full of promise. I call the blue green Carolina waves to me, praying their icy tendrils will wash away this otherness that entraps my seventeen year old soul. I named it the otherness because my search for words to describe this capture has proven futile. The letters and syllables that mix together to create words like "isolation" and "loneliness" do not appropriately encompass the power of my inner constant companion.

My tangled blond hair whips around my face, not caring at this moment about the pain it will later cause me to untie the knots. I am truly alone as I have wished for in the night when ghosts inhabit my room. Yet this brings me little solace and I try for the millionth time to rid myself of the otherness. I want a love that does not tare at my clothes or my heart, friends that can see through me to the other side of my being, happiness that comes from the freedom to be open and honest. But the otherness anchors my feet and seals the lips that long to tell the tails that would release me.

The morning star matures, growing gold in the hours after dawn. It warms my face and numb fingers, but cannot reach inside. I stand and turn to leave, knowing that most certainly someone will be searching for the girl that used to me me. The otherness and I take our leave, knowing that in spite of what I might believe I want, neither of us can survive without the other. The unknown of my reflection without the otherness staring back at me is too much to fathom and my fleeting hopes for release melt into this reality.

Blame is no salve and time is not a healer. Perhaps we all roam the earth with our own otherness inside, eating us up until we surrender to six feet under. Maybe it drowns us in the nothing that we all eventually are bound to become.

It could be that one day, I will discover that I've never really been alone.

---

Author's Note: This is a glimpse into my heart as a teenager who was bent, broken, and bottled up by trauma and sadness. Thankfully, I am far past this. But it is good too look back at how far I've come and remember that I have not only survived, but thrived. The otherness is gone and has been replaced by the knowledge we are all survivors of something. We are all the same in so many ways and this brings me great comfort.
Tags: lj idol season 8
Subscribe

  • I haven't asked in a long time, but...

    I poured my heart out for the Idol entry this week. I've been pretty good this season by not clogging your friends lists with pleas for votes. I'm…

  • Food Memory

    Whenever I'd come home from several months away at college, Grandma would always make sure to have fried chicken and potato salad for me practically…

  • Inconceivable

    Grace sure can clean. We met years ago and somehow she always knows when I'm in desperate need of her help. Her scarred hands scrub away the messes I…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic
    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 17 comments
Previous
← Ctrl ← Alt
Next
Ctrl → Alt →
Previous
← Ctrl ← Alt
Next
Ctrl → Alt →

  • I haven't asked in a long time, but...

    I poured my heart out for the Idol entry this week. I've been pretty good this season by not clogging your friends lists with pleas for votes. I'm…

  • Food Memory

    Whenever I'd come home from several months away at college, Grandma would always make sure to have fried chicken and potato salad for me practically…

  • Inconceivable

    Grace sure can clean. We met years ago and somehow she always knows when I'm in desperate need of her help. Her scarred hands scrub away the messes I…