ilythia, part one, age 24

Photo credit: David Bollt

Tonight.

I have discovered.

That nothing truly matters.

I knew this.

In my brain.

Somewhere in books.

When I am present with someone.

And I'm enjoying the fuck out of them.

But tonight.

I laid in bed with Andrew.

And as I celebrated him.

Celebrating his warm heart.

That gives so much to himself.

It allows me to give to me.

So.

I celebrated myself.

I celebrated my giving.

My heart.

My intuition.

My sensitivity.

My fine tune perceiving.

My love.

My gifts.

Then I thought about my "kryptonite."

My pitfalls.

My blindspot.

My bullshit that bullshits even me.

Why can't I figure out what it is that I do?

I paused.

Can I celebrate this too?

And so what?

I can't grasp who it is that I am.

Sure.

I keep landing on pads of what I think my identity is.

So.

If none of these masks I'm putting on are mine.

Where did mine go?

How would I know which one is mine?

And.

Which one is most true?

I paused.

These are the questions that keep me in the spiral.

Of my pitfall.

My hall of mirrors.

So.

So what if I don't know who I am?

I choked.

The familiar pain of existential darkness sets in.

Who am I?

No.

This is not the familiarity that I seek.

The question is: who am I not?

Andrew lit up at this.

He exclaimed.

That's your question.

I felt it.

This light.

This is real.

I celebrated.

Yeah.

That's my question.

I can be in celebration.

Of catching myself grasping onto an identity.

When really.

I am free of it.

I don't need to realize my identity.

Which mask is mine.

I am who I am.

Without one.

If the question of.

Who am I?

Heaves me into the spiral.

Bouncing around the hall of mirrors.

The question of.

Who am I not?

Will give me enough clarity.

To ground me.

And that clarity.

Will at least give me a cleaner sense.

Of who I am.

Suddenly.

I am free.

To be whoever I want to be.

Until I hit the borders of.

Who I am not.

Choice is available to me.

Possibilities emerge.

As cliche as my ego observed.

As endless infinity.

I am freed of my bonds.

I am able to hold each of these masks.

The drive.

The creativity.

The curiosity.

To try each one on.

With consciousness.

Without having the attachment.

Of holding onto one.

I began giggling in bed.

I opened my arms to the Universe.

Which seemed to cry.

Welcome back.

I held onto Andrew and cried and laughed.

There was so much clarity.

So much choice.

Everything was story.

And I could make myself anew.

And I could identify.

Parts of myself.

In that moment.

That were open.

And loving.

And.

Without warning.

The flood of Realization.

That I am a human habit.

Of Love.

Of liking and disliking.

Wanting and unwanting.

Of faults and pride.

Am of all things.

At any given moment.

That although I like someone witnessing me.

Come to this place.

I don't "always need."

Someone to be here to witness me.

I breathed.

I cried.

I laughed.

I drank water.

I felt the air I breathed.

Being pulled in.

Love filling my lungs.

My loving the air as I pushed back out.

Caressing the area between my nostrils.

And my upper lip.

I know.

In the morning.

I will wake up.

And there will be guilt.

The pain.

The management.

The numbness.

The entire human experience that is me.

But.

I will have more consciousness around Me.

I will be okay.

I will see that it is a part of me.

And also separate.

I will own my experience.

So I can let it go.

Infinity
is
open
to
your
sight.