"In The Verge"

“In The Verge”
In the verge of falling. In the verge of letting go of ourselves. In the verge of freedom. In the verge of life.
In the verge of the climb. Halfway there, halfway here. Part dreaming, part living. A little of fantasy, and a little of realism. Some sarcasm, too. And hate, complemented with revenge.
That’s where I am now. In the verge. Not quite falling yet, but very damn close.
All that it took me to get here, all the work, the focus, the strength, the boldness... and all it would take me to get to the tip of the rocky, icy mountain. All, suddenly, worthless. All lost. Just me, standing there, stock in the middle of the climb, in a verge, looking down at the fall that waits for me. And asking myself a question repeatedly: why did I had to be born with so many ambitions? Why? So that when I was in my way to getting what I have always grieved for, to realize I probably won’t ever get not even a little closer to achieving? A lifetime, fifteen years, of crafting, molding, preparing myself, just to realize I’m in a bunker? With no way out? Simply drowning? What for?. I’m afraid that dreaming isn’t worth it.
I live for and by my dreams. To make them real. So that finally, awakening is better than dreaming. But there’s always something that stops me. Always. Sometimes the circumstances. Sometimes my surroundings. My friends. My family. I’m scared. They might think I’m just a dreamer, but not a doer.
Or maybe that’s not why I found myself stopping there, at the verge of the mountain. Maybe it is because I’m afraid I won’t make it. Maybe it is because deep down, I know I’m the one creating that bunker that keeps me from moving on, because yes, my life is difficult and complicated, but nothing’s impossible. Besides, there are people whose lives are a lot harder, right? And I don’t regret difficult times. I take them as a compliment. Life gives the hard parts to those who are strong enough to bare them and go past ‘em. I believe that.
But this fear always comes back to me. Always. It’s like I’m afraid to go further because then if I fail, then the fall will be a lot longer. So I’m scared. Real scared. But I’m too proud to show it or even admit it. I find that as a weakness in myself. If I’d admit it, then I would’ve become vulnerable. Not that vulnerability is bad. But I just don’t like to look as if I can indeed be defeated. I hate that feeling. And I love that I am that way too. Because I think that at times, that’s what keeps me going. My urge for showing myself all the things that I am capable of. All what I’ve done so far, and what is yet to come. Since I am like that, I always keep going after being in the verge. I look down, look up. See what’s coming and know that it is not a cup cake. Realize that if I don’t keep going, risking it all, then I’ll be a greater looser. I’ll be an insecure. A quitter. And there is absolutely nothing worse than a quitter.
Because to achieve big time, you’ve got to be daring to fail.
‘Bet big, win big’
So here I keep going, with all the things that are already on my shoulders, in the pursuit of my dreams...
Wish me luck,
WG.