Something New

Something New 

Mackenzie M. Hebner 

It’s easy not to realize how fortunate you were until what seemed like a burden slips away, and suddenly there’s a hole you never realized had needed to be filled. It grows a little more as you sit there watching everything you had with a new light. This time there is a tick inside your mind, counting down the moments you have left with this fresh perspective, and you don’t want to waste the moments hurting, but it’s hard to feel any other way than a plain fool. 

You see, it’d been a rough few years spent here. You saw a lot, learned a lot, hid a lot. And, as one naturally does, those locked away memories became attached to a place so as not to pin them on you where you’d be forced to reconcile with them. No, they stayed safely manifested in intricately crafted pillars of deep sienna engineering a building once called a home, then a trap, now a lost soul. You saw these walls as a forced interaction with the childhood you’d been told wasn’t healthy, wasn’t normal. (Though, frankly, who’s is?) This home became associated with the pain of a past and a family and even a you you were happy to forget. You wanted a perfect picture—the problem with those being that everyone is posed, but that didn’t seem to matter. The candid version was too messy—

So, at this rate, you figured when they said “We’re selling the house,” one of two things would come to pass. One, you’d be impressively unmoved and apathetic about the whole ordeal, or two, you’d be ecstatic that this chapter of your life would go on to make someone else smile and you’d never have to face it again—maybe you’d even help them find a buyer because you were so elated to be rid of this constant reminder always looming, and you were convinced that once it was sold everything that occurred inside those walls or around that time would simply cease to exist. Perhaps it sounds cheesy or irrational, but you were convinced. You really were, remember? But then something peculiar happened. And I’m assuming you’ve picked up on this by now, but it wasn’t one or two. It was a third option that had not been factored in. You were sad. 

You see, it was rather beautiful here, and there were all these memories and even though they weren’t all necessarily uplifting, they were what made you you. And, if you didn’t have the concrete place to come back to proving this chapter was a part of your life, how could you ever be certain it all really happened, and you weren’t just making things up for the sake of a story? After all, you are a writer, it’s not entirely crazy to believe you could concoct a decent tale of trial and triumph. Though, the triumph seemed to be the missing element here. Or, perhaps the triumph was in the sadness. In the realization that this land meant more than hurt, there was a certain peace you finally understood as you watched it in its final days. Or perhaps the triumph would be in letting go. To find peace with a past that brought so much pain. But there is beauty from the agony, and if that is all you learned, perhaps it was all worth it. 

After all, haven’t you picked up on the fact that the pain follows you around? It doesn’t stay static in one place with more than four walls that make it feel like it goes on forever. No, the pain follows you wherever you go. You can’t escape it. You can’t ignore it. Sooner or later you have to face it or let it devour you. You see, you realize that whatever made you cry here, well it’d make you cry anywhere, cause that’s just where you’re at right now. And those girls that were mean to you, well they would’ve been mean even if you lived in a different house. In fact, your house probably did you good; it was the nicest on the block that’s for sure. Remember how they’d all come over, transfixed by the microwave or in awe of the blended in dishwasher and pull-out trash can? Your house was legendary! But, you let it take the fall for them, for you. It wasn’t its burden to bear, but you didn’t give it the choice. You piled the weight on like it was your sole purpose in life. Because at times it was. You needed someone else to take the fall. Someone else to feel your pain. And so you made them, so you didn’t have to be alone. 

But are you really not alone if the only other being in the world to understand your pain is an inanimate one? It seemed to work for you. You just never reasoned with the reality that one day that object would no longer be there for you, and you’d have to find something else. Maybe even a new inanimate object, but new nonetheless. New could even be you. A time for you to finally face the hurt you spent years pawning off to someone, or rather something, else. So maybe this change would be good for you, just not in the way of one or two. But a chance to face the you you left behind ages ago. The you with scars and bumps and bruises you’ve been carrying around for far too long. After all, it’s always better late than never, even if you’re not yet entirely convinced. 

You lived by the idea that scars and bruises heal with time, and you were right. But what happens when you keep letting the culprit of those scars and bruises back into your home? It might be years from the incident that instilled them, but everytime you push it down, you’re choosing not to let it out of your house, and therefore it can keep on beating up those bruises and opening those scars so they can never heal. Not until the culprit is gone. And culprits don’t just leave with time, not when they’re still having so much fun. They have to be kicked out. But how do you do that while they still hold all the power? Well, my friend, it’s time to get the power back. To let go of the house. To face the facts. It’s time to embrace something new. A new you. Face the past, and let it go. Remember the memories, feel your injustices, and make peace with the time passed. They don’t define you anymore, in fact, they never had to. 

Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It simply means accepting what happened, recognizing it, and not giving it the power to define you anymore. Because it is what we refuse to forgive that goes on to define us. So then, the question becomes: who are you really? And finally: who do you want to be?