TAKE ME HOME
I once lived in a small cottage hidden away, protected by a bright light and the innocence of young age. Curiosity found me and knocked on my door, until he wasn't easy to ignore. There was a friendliness about him, so I decided to let him in. I was amazed as he told me about all the exciting places he had been. After he left, I told the one I loved that there was something I needed to do, on my own and without him, in this wild world of a zoo.
So I left the cottage behind and tucked the key in my back pocket, ready for a new adventure with some sweet memories in my locket. Eventually I came across a forest filled with the thickest thorns, the sight of which terrified me until my heart felt torn. Had I gone the right way? Why did I suddenly feel all alone? It was a dark day when I realized I was on my own.
Invisible, husky voices whispered through the branches, and I failed to block them out with my mental lances. They promised that if I spoke just one word, they’d make my life so miserable as if I’d wish it never occurred. My inner, silent cry for help was the loudest anyone had ever heard. I was stuck in a maze; the very thought of escaping was absurd.
I climbed the closest tree, wanting to leap and disappear, but the thud of a rotten apple on the ground caught my ear. It must have been an angel who reminded me of my fears, losing all control as my face became a faucet of tears.
I walked back the way I came, letting the thorns of the forest press into me and create bloody scars. Yet I knew that something out there was greater than all the planets and stars. I realized that apples really don’t fall far from the tree, and no apology sufficient enough could ever come from me. I had brought myself and my memories into the darkness. In the years that had passed, I survived on pure abjectness.
While everyone else traveled miles to the land of Euphoria, I ended up returning to the home of Victoria—a messed up, broken, and hypocritical world, waving flags of guilt and shame while those of honor stayed securely furled.
When I arrived at the spot, reality didn’t spare me. The cottage appeared dilapidated, abandoned, dismal, rusty. This couldn’t be it—no way could this be. But when I looked closer, I could fully see that indeed this was where I had previously stayed, where I had laughed, loved, and thereafter strayed.
Now it was infested with worms and mold, all sorts of monstrous creatures you only hear about in tales of old. I had never noticed them before, because they lived underneath. Now in the sudden shock, I could hardly breathe. I called out the name of the one I had loved but heard only the sound of a nearby mourning dove. I started knocking on the door, since I had lost the key somewhere along the way. Then the corner of my eye caught sight of a grave in marbled gray.
My heart grew heavy, as I dropped to the dirt. In that moment, the true meaning of sorry was a lesson that I learnt. I begged God to take me back to the days of before, to reverse, redo, rebuild, and restore; to prove me wrong, that fairytales are in fact myths, to pull me out of this free-falling abyss, and to help me pass this impossible test, so that in peace my memories and I might finally rest, instead of falling away into the ever-increasing decay, where negativity allures and bitterness slays, and where sorrowful songs seem without end. Oh to You, I come in deep need of a friend.
More than a friend, I need a Savior, a change in my heart and a change in behavior. Please change what has become before the pain takes over me, and meanwhile build something new until forever in Your house I may be.