It’s fine with me

She used to believe in a Saviour. She thought one day he would come, one of those dark days, while she would be crying desperately he would appear. Her Saviour was always male, he would know exactly what to say, how to say it. He would understand the depth of her. He would get her like no one ever did.

At first her Saviour was a God, a white god, Jesus actually. She thought that someday his heart couldn’t  handle her cries and pain, and so he would appear to her and confort her soul. She really thought that one of those dark nights, while she would be balling her eyes out, crying her soul out and asking for a sign, he would appear. But he never did. She was hurt, but then she understood he could not come because he probably could not hear her, because he was not her Saviour.

So she let go. The second time around she thought a man would save her, still male, less of a God, but still, he could save her. So she would let her guards down, cry around him, cry in the same home, on the same bed while he is laying down next to her. Sleeping. She thought his love for her would be so hudge and deep that even in his deepest sleep he would be able to hear his soulmate’s soul being destroyed. But he never heard, he never woke up, he never saved her. Did he ever try ? Probably. Maybe. At least she would hope he believed he did his best. But his best was never enough. He never came when she was on the floor, imploring death to come take her. He never cared like she thought he would. Or maybe he just never knew to care that deep ? She does not know. It does not matter because she is no longer a believer.

She does not believe anymore in a Saviour. Nor male or female. She understands that there is no Saviour, there is no ONE, there is no NEO. Nobody is coming when your soul screams, when your eyes can’t seem to stop watering. No one is coming to get you out of the hole. Broken hearts are alone. Love does not save. No one can be put in that position. She now understands that that was a myth. So she stopped making noises when she cried. She stopped trying to attract attention. She stopped looking for help. What for ? Why ?

There is nothing left to be said. She tried and she failed. It’s not over but she knows that every win is just a failure away. Life is like a butterfly trapped in a net, trying to get out : the butterfly has moments where it believes that it has found a way out, only to realize that it was a false hope. Every moment is an illusion until it realizes that it’s going to die here. And then it dies. As the butterfly, at first she thought a Saviour would come, then she thought realizing that there was no Saviour was her way out. To finally recognize that she was still trapped. If it’s not today, it will be tomorrow. If she strives today, tomorrow is not promised and there will be a time when she will fall again. Her soul is never getting healed, it has been wounded for ever. Or maybe it was created like that. She feels like she is drowning or about to drown most of the time, and when the pills kick in and she does not fell it anymore, she forgets that she is in high waters on a very slim boat. Then the pills stop kicking in and suddenly she is drowning again. And here she thought she left the sea and was on firm ground.

She knows now that there is no Saviour, because she can not be saved from herself. She is tied to herself and can not get away. So she accepted it. She is okay with not being saved, she is fine with being tied up to herself. She does not need anybody. But she will not keep going like this. She is tired and she made the decision to let go. It’s fine with her, both of her. She was faded, jaded. She got tired of playing this same game over and over. Now she is lucid. She is letting go. Soon she will be okay because she will make her way back to nothingness. She found her way out. She decided to save herself. She will be okay, because she is going to make it out. She will not make it out alive, but it’s fine with her, and it’s fine with me.