Will She Ever Get Out?

For this woman, life has truly been a bitch and a real pain in the arse. How could this be? How could a young woman who has been given the opportunity to go to a great university feel this way? How could a young woman who has been given a great group of loving friends feel such disappointment with herself and life? She slowly disappears from her friends and her family, she closes the door, and she sits and ponders. Her heart goes back to that bottomless pitt of depression and she's back at square one. It's the same damn thing everyday, the constant struggle to forgive herself for her past mistakes, the constant struggle to love those who have done her wrong, and worst of all she loses herself whenever she thinks of that one primary mistake, the loss of her precious gift and how she will never get it back. Even if she pleaded, and even if she begged, she knows it will never come back to her. It has left her and that little piece of her has entered him. The man whom shall never be named. There is no way it could ever be retrieved. And sometimes I feel like its written all over my face and my body for everyone to see. People staring and commenting like I'm the star of some damn show. "She lost it, she lost her precious gift." Can people actually see it? Can people see that this girl learning to become a woman constantly struggles to remove these thoughts, to tear off these chains of pain and guilt? And she's lonely, hanging with friends who still have their precious gifts attached to them and a family reads it all over her face when she comes to visit. They know. Mum knows that Wamu looks a little more grown that usual. She constantly asks herself whether her mom knows...the woman who bore that big-headed baby. The woman who told her not to lose that precious gift, told her not to be like her desperate aunts. But maybe she's imagining things, thinking too deeply, maybe they don't know whats going on, maybe they don't know her story. Wearing a countenance that shows no expression or feeling. Maybe they can't read that mask she's wears day in and day out.
If they only knew how hard it is for her not to think about losing her precious gift. The "what if's" constantly run in and out of her head, in and out. "What if I had said NO?" "What if I had not lost my voice?" "What if it had not been him?" What if? And that's the exact moment when she enters the dream world which envelops her every thought. A place which she can call home. For her its more that just the act of day dreaming because day dreaming is temporary. In this dreamworld she feels trapped and her body stays there day in and day out. She knows that she will get out one day. It will not only require her own efforts but it will also require the efforts of those who love her and care for her well-being. You see in Wamu's dreamworld there is music, notes, constant rhythm and beat. In her world there are also trees, many different types of trees. On every tree, there is an opportunity for her to pick out a "What if". She sits under that tree and she ponders day in and day out listening to the songs that her dreamworld provides to match her ever changing mood. Sometimes she cries and sometimes she laughs. Other times, she may just sit there all by her lonesome feeling nothing. There's still a song provided for her when feels nothing, when she feels empty. The only thing for her that exists is the trees, her musical notes, and the "what if's" surrounded her in the realm of the dream world.
Outside the realm of the dream world is where she's supposed to be. Real life. Not "what ifs". Doing not just dreaming. She wants to be able to set foot in that real world and not just be some girl sitting under the tree of "what if's" and gazing at the world which she was once a part of. The world full of people who either help you or try to destroy you. The world in which she felt worthless and little angry at God. Those who are hurt by the world, because the world is cruel and ruthless, tend to find comfort in dreamworld. These feelings of comfort which are gained from the world of "what if's" are not real. They only put an individual on a temporary high. She's been on that temporary high several times, figuratively and literally speaking, and each time she always comes back to that same bottomless pitt. It's not good and hells it's not healthy but sometimes its her only option, her only place of refuge. A place where she can feel as if there is a tiny bit of hope. But she wants to get the hell out of there because she wants to feel real, she wants to be that happy Wamu who was once full of genuine laughter, full of energy, full of life. She wants to be able to express her emotions again, real emotions. She doesn't want to have the feeling of sadness, she wants to cry and she wants to shed tears. She's been sitting so long under that damn tree and she's ready for the rain to come and tear down the "what if's" from that tree. Her ass is sore, her mind is tired, and she's ready to venture into that world which she once fell from.