literature

Bodhi

Deviation Actions

Published: Aug 6, 2014

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Literature Text

Bodhi

_{Growing up, I was taught that houses and a home were different. I think that logic would apply here. Coming from a person who wanted nothing more than to "bat a thousand," (Innocent euphemism for wanting to make my first girlfriend my first wife.) with his first girlfriend, it never came to fruition. Just two months ago, I wept and I wept over it. Thinking some part of me left, thinking I'd never be the same. Forever bitter, vengeful. As time went by, the weight lessened and lessened. I wasn't clenching my fists at the thought of her with someone else or throwing her gifted hat across the room in a fit of random, inexplicable anger...(Inexplicable because I would just randomly get angry at the thought of her.)...a part of me had come to realize, the woman that I wanted a home with, was never a home at all.

You make the best of your abilities, with the rooms and closets you were given. The skeletons, the cobwebs, the dust bunnies, and broken cabinets. But you can try and fix these things, ignore these things, make them into something else. You cannot fix your house if you're on a hill with bad foundation though. Year by year, your home is slipping. When it rains, it slips under the space of your front door and slips through the cracks of your windowpane. You want to move out yet refuse because it's all you know. Yet when your house finally slips into a deep mudslide, you may realize it was time to leave if you're awake to see it.

We find ourselves in different things and people. We take comfort in knowing that there are people who can understand our struggle. And while these people are not romantic interests, they help take the burden off. They're not a home, but they are an apartment in the city. A place where you can reside and lean on for years to come. Some people even make an apartment a permanent residence. Can't quite have a yard or a swing set for your future children, but it's comfortable, makes you happy. It doesn't necessarily have all of your heart, but it treats it so much better than that mudslide of a home. You love your apartment. You buy it after college and chill in it. But eventually, you move away from this place in search of something a bit cozier.

But until you find the right home, enjoy the apartments of others. Your close, close friends. People who you know you can go to with reprieve. Enjoy their company, love them. Be with them. You shall find your home, yet.

Ultimately, we try to find ourselves in different people. But no one takes ourselves from our spirit. They may be a second skin, but if the skin is cut and bruised, perhaps it is not the way to go. But that's what makes love, both platonic and romantic, such a difficult thing to curb. It's not easy to understand. We love and we lose, we fall and stand. But that is the beauty of this entire thing you created, this title. The conglomeration.

There are some things that we can control, some things that we know like the back of our hands. But before all, we must know our minds and our hearts. When we find ourselves, our true selves, no one will have a chokehold on our spirit.}