Hello little Worm. It’s been a while. I see you burying deep in the synapses of my brain. Thoughts on a loop. I can feel the darkness setting in. The pain, the hopelessness, the fear. Mostly the fear.
I wonder how it would be if we had felt loved. Some shred of warmth. Would you be so vehement? Would you act with such ferver? Would your mission to kill me be so determined?
Let’s imagine shall we, Worm? Let’s imagine that our childhood was full of love, warmth and laughter. Let’s imagine we felt safe. No fear. Can we even imagine that? Let’s try. Let’s imagine a warm blanket of family loveliness that envelopes us. Every celebration, every disappointment, every simple act of daily living, simply cosseted by the knowledge that we are just loved. Nothing more, nothing less. Let’s imagine an adulthood that is filled with happy memories of that childhood. Let’s imagine that shall we? You and me, sitting here, reminiscing about the good old times. What would we look like now?
I know. It’s painful. It’s painful to imagine something so foreign. It’s excruciating to imagine something that should have been, but could never be. I know, there is no turning back. But I’m trying to change the script, you understand. I’m trying to stop you, Worm, from burying deeper, inching me ever closer to that abyss. I’m trying to turn you away from your goal.
Let’s imagine a life where we are not in pain. Let’s imagine a life where there is kindness and we are drawn to that kindness. Let’s imagine we are drawn to the light and not the inky, stifling, suffocating darkness. Let’s imagine a life where no matter what happens we know our worth, our sense of self.
I know, Worm. We feel like Aliens. It’s lonely being an Alien. We don’t fit this world. But, you know Worm, we don’t have to fit. We can simply inhabit the earth, dig our feet deep into its ground to create our own roots. We could turn our face to the sun and let it warm us, nurture us and just let ourselves grow in whatever way the earth wants us to. It doesn’t have to be complicated. We could just sit. Sit and breathe. We don’t have to leave. Nothing so drastic or as permanent as that.
We could stay. We could simply accept. Move forward. I know. They hurt us. But Worm, do we have to let it define us? Do we really want it to end this way? The pain. I know. It is bad. Unbearable at times. But surely there is hope. Hope that somewhere inside of us, in the deep recesses of our soul, we have the strength and power to move forward.
Worm, it’s okay to cry. I get it. It’s hard to rewire a brain filled to the brim of a lifetime’s worth of being told you are not good enough. The nothingness seems so enticing. Look away, Worm. Just for today look away. Let’s just sit here for a while. Let’s not make any decisions right now.
I thank you, Worm, for keeping me safe all of these years. Your protection has been invaluable. Lifesaving. But today is not the day. Not today. Take my hand, Worm.
What’s that, Worm? Do I have hope? I think I do, Worm, I think I do. We’ve come this far haven’t we? Surviors, Worm, that is what we are. Survivors who now need to live. Look away, Worm. We are not listening to the tempting, powerful siren song. It is an illusion. There will be no peace there.
Let’s just sit here, Worm, like Calvin & Hobbes. Friends forever.
I love you Worm.
8 thoughts on “Worm”
This is beautiful Sarah – and heartbreaking. I wish I could hug you through the computer. Thank you for sharing such vulnerable words. I was mesmerised. Kris xx
Thank you Kris for your kind words, Sarah x
What a powerful piece of writing. I hope you and Worm have a good day today. xo
Thank you x
This is what came to my mind Sarah ❤️
Beautiful ❤️. I love Danny Kaye. I used to watch all his movies with my mom x
I could feel your heartache, your struggle and your strength through this piece Sarah. Such emotive writing. May every day be somewhat better than the last. Sandra Xx
Thank you x