OUT OF PLACE.

Daily writing prompt

Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.

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feeling like you don’t belong, as if your whole life’s identity has been stolen and you run around trying to fit in, trying to be ‘enough’ but what is enough when your entity was doubted in the first place? it wasn’t until you stop and stare deep into the mirror and find that your reflection is no longer you–then maybe you will consider taking a step back from it all won’t you?

walking on a lonely road, you find yourself searching from deep within, that question that you’ve been avoiding finally come to the surface; ‘what is it that I’ve sacrificed just to be here?’ for many, sacrifices could go beyond what words could say and there is no measurements in it cause people’s hell differs. some found their new identity while the others–couldn’t seem to find their way back home and it’s fine.

looking back, I don’t think that it’s an instant realization for me.

slowly but surely, I walk into what seems to be a path carved exactly for me and yet, I don’t seem to find the exit at the end of it. the room is dark, quiet, I reached both of my hands forward trying to find a trace of doors if I could but–nothing. ‘am I there yet?’
and then I started doubting myself, ‘is it not yet the end?’ as I keep on moving forward–“or have I been walking in place this whole time?”

what good does it bring me? I’m not sure but I can name a few, I could force myself trying to see ‘the good side of things’ even though I know that it will only eat me alive at the end of the day cause the insecurities echoes back to me and in the back of my head, I secretly wishes that I didn’t start.

“but what’s the use to dwell on the past?” it won’t bring you anywhere nor it’ll bring you a fortune. now I am spiraling alone, and it’s way past my bed time, and the world keeps on spinning whether it’s with or without you so are you jumping in or not?

it’s not a sin. I believe that at some point, life will requires you to put up a poker face for you to be able to go through things like ‘the others’; you’re not alone. those strangers you meet at the bus stop, the mall, in the elevator, those strangers that you walked past this morning or that stranger who just dropped their coffee–everyone, is going through something. some found their new identity while the others–couldn’t seem to find their way back home and it’s fine.

someday, surely, you too will become a perfect last piece of a puzzle somewhere.