September 4, 2011

Solitude.

Sitting in a small closet.
On the carpeted floor.
The door is closed.
Everything mute.
Just me and God, no one else.
I feel free, I feel liberated, emancipated.
I can scream my deepest, darkest secret.
I can sit in silence and not say a thing.
Either way, I have a choice.
I sit there, one hour, then two. I look around. It's a warm, cozy room.
There's clothes, shoes, and junk scattered about everywhere.
Those shoes, I haven't worn in months.
I feel a draft.
I think it's God, he wants me to focus on the task at hand.
I sit there again, my mind blank.
I sit there until sitting has become a bore.
I want to say something, but I don't know what.
"I have everything I want. I need not ask for more. I am happy." I say.
Mama always said God knows a lie.
I want to get up, and walk out of that closet, but I feel an urgency that warns me to stay. I can say anything I want, but I choose not to.
I am free, I am liberated, emancipated but still I sit there in shackles.
I start to sob, I don't know why. Or do I?
I sit there, sobbing and as my tears fall, my deepest most personal prayer begins to emerge. I buried it so long ago, I forgot it was there.

"I WANT TO BE LOVED, I WANT TO BE LOVED, I WANT TO BE LOVED." I scream. I chant those five words loudly, like a proud song.

A few minutes more, the dust settles, and all is well. For now. I get off of the floor, and dust off my dress pants. I've been away from the festivities for hours now. I head back downstairs, there's turkey and cornbread dressing in the air. Nothing beats Thanksgiving dinner. House is packed to the max, with the people I call family, friends...And all I want is to be loved.

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