Stoicism

I thought I wanted to live in stoicism.

A place where I could fly under the radar, no questions asked.

I settle in and feel the disappointment rise as I realize it’s not what I had hoped.

Instead of everyone questioning my expressive nature, I’m praised for the lack thereof.

All attention is on the inauthenticity.

A new anesthetizing normal that feels isolating.

I shield my eyes as glimpses of empathy shine through the cracks of apathy, but the brightness is overbearing.

I pause in frustration; maybe my passion is inevitable.

I sigh as I come to terms with what it is my soul craves.

I step out of the shadows, into an undeniable light.

The exposure overwhelms me with discomfort.

For just a moment, I consider running for shelter.

All at once, the new, yet familiar warmth surrounds me.

For the first time in a long while, I recognize myself.

For the first time in a long while, I’m alive.