I’ve been here before. I’ve seen the color on these walls. I know where the paint is chipped and which outlet doesn’t work. I know the part of the floor to avoid when you don’t want it to creak; I know how to jiggle the bathroom door open when the summer humidity makes it stick. I’ve been here before.
And though I know its familiar smell and the weather report that’s on the way, I sit. I wait and I think and I act like it’s new – like it’s something being presented to me for the first time. Like I’m as naive as those I judge for being in this position: the weak-hearted, the clueless, or worse – the settlers. The ones who have fleeting thoughts of happiness and dreams that are only meant for deserving others. The “lucky” ones. Anyone other than me.
But I suppose that my understanding of all of this sets me apart at least in one way. I am aware. I know exactly where I am; I know exactly where I am not; I know exactly where I am going. But unlike those I’m most critical of, I must take the risks needed to separate me from the rest. The value of good advice only holds worth when someone recognizes it, follows it, and believes in it.
Sometimes we need to take a step back and realize we are our own worst enemies – we are our own failures – and in the grand scheme of things, the strongest walls we have to face in life are the ones we build for ourselves. There are few things in life that are supposed to be easy, and everything else is worth the fight.
Know what you want, never doubt yourself, have faith that there’s always a reason for the pain, and remain hopeful that this is not all there is, because the truth is, the room will never change… but the person inside it always can.
The Four Eleven 