Healing and Destroying

Every time a door opens, another closes, they say. So cliché. I prefer to stay away from the overused phrases, you know? Can't always avoid them, but I sure can try.

So here's my variation of the classic: Every time an old wound is stitched, a new one is torn wide open.

I look around me, and I see the ones who loved you--the ones you hurt--coming to terms with what you've done. They're finally seeming whole again. Smiles come more easily to their faces; hope radiates from them in a way I haven't seen in a long, long time.

These changes, among the other little things I've noticed, make me happy enough to cry.

But there is a storm on the horizon that I can scarcely comprehend. The economy around me hangs precariously balanced between surviving and dying, threatening to steal a beloved uncle, aunt, and cousins from me, with potentially hundreds of miles in between us. My rapidly changing world won't slow down long enough to allow me to catch my grasp on reality, leaving me lost and in the dark to all that whirls and twirls around me. The final year of high school approaches, and I've yet to make any decisions concerning my future...

If you cannot taste my confusion, cannot empathize with what I feel, then you are either cold in a grave or lacking a soul.

If the first, I am sorry for the loss. If the second, I should wish that you keep yourself as far from me as possible.