Feeling the end...seeing it... I know the exact date, conversation and line said that started the downward path. I saw it coming. I see it coming...all the time. I don't get to stop it, even when I try to change my script in the play, the story just presses forward. The steering wheel was ripped out and the driver is having a stroke. His foot has spasmed and locked stretched out, pressing on the gas pedal. I can't move him, my seatbelt sealed shut, I didn't see the kid in the back seat pouring super glue in the latch when I sat down. I knew this car was going to crash, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop it. Why did I still get in? I always think I can talk to the kid and get him to not seal my seatbelt. I always think I'll be able to stop the steering wheel from ripping out. I always think I'm strong enough to pull the driver out the seat and take control of the car and pull it off the road to safety. But every time I get in the car, the woman in the black vale in the back seat beside the child remains motionless. She stares at me with no emotion, she stares at me like I don't exist. She stares at me knowing that I know, and knowing I won't be able to do anything about it. Her black vale to mourn my death. Her blank stare because she knows I will do it again, and again and she remains silent because I'm only going to try a different way every time. I see and feel but I can't affect. Is this a blessing or a curse. I get to watch my death over and over. I get to watch my relationships end, over and over, and every time I try to change the story it still ends. Why?
Why feel all of this and feel powerless at the same time. I watch stories play out in my head, and I watch the moments of happiness to come. I look forward to cherishing them. I see the pain in others, and maybe one day something I said will change their direction. That's it, that's my problem: I hope. I see and I hope. Why can't I accept what I see. It's hard to see an animal about to get eaten. You want to save it, but if the other animal doesn't eat, it too will starve, or its offspring will starve. A circle we can only watch and hope there is a higher purpose to demise as much as there is a higher purpose to ascension and happiness. Maybe one day I can see pain and know its just another color on the pallet for this painting. Maybe one day I can see pain and smile. I walk up to the car, again.
