Into the light.
Out of the light.
You crawl, you walk, you run.
How long are you going to stay in that one spot before moving on to something brighter or something darker? Hours? Weeks? Months?
Why is it always when moving in and out of the shadows the light never seems to be as vast or deep as the dark?
You can pop a dozen pills day or smoke or drink or talk it out or whatever you do and even if you’re able to lengthen the light, to make that time spent in the white spots longer, the dark will still come back to get you. It will reach for you with soft, curled fingers, grab you around the heart and pull you into its depth. It’s almost comforting, to slip back into that space you are so familiar with. It’s your element. Your zone. It’s where everybody knows your name.
Who is this person who plays in the light? Who is this person who makes decisions, acts with reason, thinks things out, smiles and laughs? Is that you or are you the person wallowing in the shadows? You try to reconcile the two. You try to force the light and dark together, try to mix the black and white to form a perfect shade of gray but the dark is a hungry being. It devours whatever light you bring to it.
And so you live separately. You walk in and out of the shadows, alternately hiding and living. You appreciate the fact that the light sometimes seems to be winning, that time spent in what feels like the sun is full of rich tones and luxurious textures and you want to experience it all at once because you wasted so much time not knowing what this all feels like, to bask in light and warmth.
But the dark calls. Sometimes the light gets to be too much and your old friend snakes its fingers around you again, that feeling so familiar, so oddly comforting, you offer no resistance when it takes you down.
It’s not until you venture out of its grip again that you know how dangerous that comfort and familiarity is. You used to crawl to the light. Now you find yourself running toward it.
How long will it be before you never walk those steps back into the shadows? Will it ever happen? Will you ever bask in a light so vast and endless that you no longer see your shadow lurking, beckoning, welcoming you?
For that’s what that shadow, that dark, always is.
It’s always just you. Just your own shadow.
You are your own darkness, just as you are your own light.
The trick is getting the shadow to move into the light.
Not the other way around.
If you want, I mean.
Only if you want.