After all I have seen, I don't even know what hope is supposed to be anymore. After all I have experienced, I don't understand what it means to "move on".
Success doesn't make sense, and when I have had it, it didn't feel like success.
The biggest highs of my life always remind me of my lowest lows and no matter what I do or how I live, it will not bring back the people I have lost along the way, nor those who I will lose moving forward.
What does success mean to me, after the multiple suicides of my friends? That's not successful. They are not ever able to share it with me. With new people? Most people do not understand. Which is odd, because I see so much dysfunction. On top of the fact I have had so many bad experiences I find it hard to trust most people.
No amount of success will change my past, give me the family I want, bring back my friends and people I love.
Every new experience reminds me of my pain, because every feeling of despair followed acts of love and kindness.
All hope led me to loss. All attempts to keep everything together resulted in fractures I could not control.
What does success mean? What does it feel like? What does it look like?
Survival?
Wealth?
Adoration?
Love?
Calm?
Most narratives I see of success claim a place beyond suffering, but I don't see it.
Fot example, the story of Job. It can be debated on how real it is, but regardless, the narrative is one of success and reward. Albeit through obedience.
And yet, is it success when your kids never come back? When your family dies horrifically? Your friends? If that is considered success then I suppose my standards are too high.
I grew up surrounded by all these stories of how life is supposed to be. How it is supposed to feel. How you are supposed to react to life and treat each other.
But the more I experience and the more I understand, success just does not seem possible. At least the success my heart desires.
Perhaps it is the concept of success at all that causes me this pain. Why do I even want it at all? Is it for mere survival? Because I cannot tolerate a life without success? Because I was made to care about success at all?
Nothing can return what I have lost, and I refuse to forget. Or maybe I cannot help but to remember.