The world in which I live today is vastly different from the one in which I grew up. In fact it’s so vastly different that, at times, it feels like a different planet entirely.
Most of the time I embrace that difference. I coddle and nurture it, will it to blossom and grow into something more. More beautiful. More healthy. At least more real. Because sometimes, at the most inconvenient times, that different world crashes in on me and feels like a lie.
Not a lie. An illusion.
Suddenly, I’m certain that the different world is not for me; It’s for other people. It’s fine for other people, but not fine for me. And when that happens I feel like I’m standing in some sort of spacial plane, sliver thin, and all my own. I’m the only one here and on one side is the world from which I came, on the other side is the would I want to go and I am trapped in between. I can not return to the world from which I came. The barrier has solidified and I can not break through, not that I would want to. I want to be rescued, pulled from this plane and brought into the desired world, only, I don’t think I can be rescued. Only I can cross the barrier and bring myself into the chosen world…
Except, I don’t know how.