I realise while pacing anxiously on this line that what I want and what comforts and safety I have now exist in entirely different realms, and that those realms can never combine. Yet what I want I am not entirely sure can become reality. The scope of my intellect seems to detect just three realms. The realm that I know, that is dissatisfying, the realm of my desires, that is imaginary, and the realm of the unknown, that breeds my anxiety. The realm of my imagination cannot combine with the realm that I know. The realm of the unknown can, but could also bring about a world far worse than the one that is known.
So I continue to stand, teetering on the edge of my reality. Everything in my being tells me to leave this world. Everything except my heart, which seems to be tearing at the seams, pulled by strings in different directions; To each thing from my world that I now sacrifice, and to my dreams in the opposite direction. The pain is intense, yet it is exactly what I want. I want my passage into the unknown world to change me, to tear me apart until I am unrecognizable. For better, I hope, for mediocrity, I dread, for worse, I fear.
I will let go.