An obsession with freedom, has left me trapped.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve known what it feels like to be trapped. I’ve known what it feels like to have no way out and no other options but to survive or die. Thats a bit dramatic, but it’s my blog so screw you.
Embarking on adulthood, I’m realising that sometimes you need to leap headfirst into having only one option. Sometimes you need to have only one route, no exit plan.
Exit plans are a big thing for me. Call them a kink. When I go to a restaurant, I look for the nearest door that I could use to leave the building if I needed to. Thats also the first thing I do emotionally and mentally when starting anything new. I love knowing that even if I’m completely invested in something, I know where the back door is for when I want to get out. I love having a skeleton key to the cage.
But it’s holding me back. Maybe the challenge is in creating a back door, on the fly, when it all goes to hell. Bending the bars when I need to, instead of in advance.
I’ve loved people deliberately too late, because I couldn’t bare the idea of being so dependant on another. It terrifies me to need somebody other than myself to survive.
But maybe I need to let myself embrace the fall.