Turning Point by Najood Terkawi

Posted on December 25, 2011 by

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Do you know what it feels like to get so tired that you can’t sleep? Or what it feels like to love and hate one thing simultaneously? I am who now the product of one decision. Whether or not I regret it is a different story. I’m not here to tell you that tale, but in fact I am here to tell you that I am asking God for a rewind button.

The moment I realized I wanted to be free was the moment I realized it was okay to be. Right now, I’m not sure if that was a blessing or a curse to discover. The question is, where did you fit into all of it? I wish you were reading this. I wish I could throw this paper on your driveway, so you’d find it and see for yourself what you left behind. I could send you a picture of a million scenarios in which your words were the reason behind my endless need for something that wasn’t really there. Take it as a compliment that I let you in. I’ve known glass wounds to cause less pain than you did when you walked out on me the way you did. If you’ve ever been shot with a bullet, maybe you can comprehend what it felt like to endure the painful journey of letting go. If you’ve ever walked a million miles in search of something that you never found, maybe you can begin to understand what it felt like for me to keep chasing a false imagination; the one you led me to believe was true, hardcore reality. If you’ve ever given up, body and soul, maybe you would sympathize with the tangled mess I was. There’s this gap you created, and oddly enough, only you can fill it. I’m sure you’re confused. This must sound cryptic to you. You’re mistaken, my dear, that’s your job; to tell me half of the truth and the moment I lost myself was when I planned to love myself through you. I planned to live off the memories of us.  It’s the strangest feeling, but sometimes I play it all over again in my head, starting from one word: “hey”.

I needed a break. I was falling apart. The seams of my life were coming loose and I was newly 16. Finding stable ground between who I was to begin with and who I was becoming was almost impossible. Either way, I was losing myself. It was like trying to grow into shoes that would never be my size, or buying a shade of lipstick that wasn’t mine. My greatest fears were coming true; I was alone and as lost as a teenager could possibly be.  I had gone that summer of 2010 looking for something. Something no amount of physical searching would ever find. I needed to grow as a person, to discover where I stood, to learn to love myself. But when I couldn’t pick myself up, I found someone who could make me dance to my favorite song or laugh at the most shallow of jokes. To make it simple, I started to believe in invincibility. Time wasn’t a friend back then though, and it still isn’t now. I got too intertwined and I ended up dancing a duet as a solo. It’s like being ready for nothing… waiting for nothing.

Can you think of a more daunting task than picking yourself up after you’ve fallen? Carrying your entire body weight on your shoulders…trying to believe reality is still something you live in. And at the time, I wondered whether I liked living in reality or not. I woke up some days feeling drunk wishing I really was. I learned that I was still clinging to an invisible bar and that was the only thing that kept me from going insane.

My mind slowly learned to feed its appetite for memories  by allowing itself to stop time, rewind, pause, and replay things in my head as many times as it wished. This way, I could relive the moments I had failed to live properly. The glitch was that when I woke up from my dream state, I found that reality was still playing at a regular pace. People were moving on and I was infinitely asleep. Like Inception. They say that things don’t change, but we just learn to get used to them. I must have gotten used to them because I no longer wait for someone to love me. I now know what I’m looking for.  I’m still finding myself in the same night sky I fell in love with in September.

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