Imperfect Perfection

Sometimes, I find myself lost in my thoughts, trapped in a endless meander of feelings and emotions. Then suddenly,a feeling of deja vu sweeps over me, my surroundings, the places, the people, the incessant chatter become much clearer to me, and I realized that I'm tangled up in my own memories.

As I retrace the paths taken, walking in my own footsteps, I watch as I slowly stomped my way up life's hill, occasionally straying away from the paths, and sometimes creating my own route other than the norm.

And I watched as I took a deep plunge into the deep,dark end. I stood by as I watched a projection of myself stumble around, a dark, black veil, clouding my vision. I watched silently as I tripped on rocks and fall into caverns and seemingly bottomless pits. I resisted the urge to try to yank away the veil that blocked my vision, clouded my judgement, prevented me from noticing the sturdy ladder that led out of the pit. I observed my feeble attempts to ask for help. The words vanishing from the tip of my tongue before it could be spoken. I watched helplessly as I saw myself pull away from others, sinking deeper into the cloud of darkness that enveloped me. I tried to call out to myself, to help me escape from the seemingly never-ending pain, but no sound escaped my lips and my arms hung limply, useless by my side.

And I watched as I slowly groped my way around, creating footholds in the walls, and finally emerging, bruised, battered and broken, but also more experienced, confident, matured and understanding. That's when I realized, I HAD to fall into the deep end, to discover my purpose in life, to meet you, you and you, to realize how much others care, to grow, to mature, and to experience. And even though the wounds are deep, and the scars might be forever, its this little imperfections that make me a complete human being. And maybe in the future, when I meet you, lost in an abyss of despair, I can say with assurance that I've been there, I understand you and you'll be fine. And I will listen to you, and help you speak the words that you could not speak and give you the guidance that you need.

And I'll tell you that life is definitely not a bed of roses, you'll trip over pebbles, rocks and the occasional rabbit, stumble into gutters and drains, before dragging your weary, bruised feet over to the bed of roses, plumping down onto it and leaping up seconds later, scratched by them roses. That's life.