angst

"But how long can mere responsibility tie me to a place I don’t really feel a part of?"

Dear God,
Are you there?
I thought I knew what you were saying, but I don't know anymore.
So many times I thought... that this was it. This was right. This would work.
But I'm still here, again.
I thought coming back was right. I thought starting CAM was right. I thought I was ready to take flight.
I was wrong.
I thought I could stay. I thought I could finally build. I thought that maybe, this time, something new and beautiful would emerge.
I was wrong.
I thought leaving was right. I thought that if I could only see things from a new perspective, things would be different.
I don't know.
I don't know what you're saying anymore, because there are so many voices crowding me. There are so many past decisions that made sense, that sounded right, that felt right, but now in the light of newer decisions, are clashing together.
And bringing them all together now, I don't know which is right and which is wrong. To go or to stay. To dig and build, or to find a new home.
Maybe the right decision is to just let all of this force me out into going somewhere new, and somewhere fresh, where all the old voices and patterns won't force me back into the shell that I've built around my heart.
I was so sure that I was to be here. Now. Then I was so sure that I was to leave. Now.
All I can say at this moment in time is, I don't know anymore. The voices won't rest, and my heart won't feel.
Maybe that's why I turn up the music, so I won't think. So that I won't hear anything past the blast of sound.
But maybe that's why I'm not hearing you either. Because I won't allow myself to.
I don't know, God.
I can't hear you.
And I don't know if I'm trying all that hard to anymore.
Let me go, but don't.

Find me. Please.