An Empty Page by Maria Fokas
There are many tragedies in life, and I am lucky not to have experienced many of them yet. But when I’m lost, I pretend to be the center of this world; knowing I am not, and the painful secrets surface. I don’t think about those who are worse off than me. When it gets hard, should I be thankful that there are worse hardships out there? Using the unfortunate lives of others to make me feel better about my life, when life is difficult, is not a rational option for me. But I am guilty as charged.
Every now and then I look around, and notice all the things I hate, but take the selfish path. Little by little I create my own garden, with only the few to be welcomed. And when something in the world goes wrong, and I find out by chance, I helplessly turn away and say, I don’t have time to worry about the things I cannot change. Yes, it is a weakness, and a serious fault. But I know that awareness of one’s darkness can be the first step to change. But then again, I could be wrong.
I sat here in the privacy of the moment to clear my head and find comfort; I shut out my temporary world just to breathe. I feel shame, I feel disgust, but take comfort in knowing that the things I don’t choose are not my fault. What am I saying? I could not be further from the truth . . .
Lucky, I can fill my empty page with the words that free me of the things which scar the soul.
“What do you need?”, someone asked me. I did not reply, but in the quiet of knowing I have an empty page to fill…maybe someday, I will know.