Have you ever had that one thing? You know, that thing that you knew was bad for you, that you knew deep down was possibly holding you back from experiences you wanted and were capable of, but you kept it around anyway? That thing that constantly made you feel down, but in an indirect sort of way, so that when you thought about it you couldn’t actually pinpoint a particular instance in which this phenomenon occurred? I’ll be damned if I don’t have at least five of those “things.” They’re everywhere, you’ve got to be really careful. They sneak up on you, you know? They make you feel like they’re always going to be there, like they’re what you’ve been missing, but then as soon as things go south they disappear until the sun starts to peek back through the clouds, until you’ve got more life for them to suck out of you. Yeah, I’ve definitely got a few of those “things”. They latch onto the big-hearted, those with a lot of love to give. And once you take on one you can’t help but accumulate more, because a heart that’s already been damaged and broken is much easier to break again than one that was whole to begin with. Sometimes, these things ruin us, and it is not uncommon that we start to forget how many beautiful things can be made from the dust.
These things keep you trapped in a vicious cycle, like a maze, or a labyrinth. John Green once wrote in "Looking for Alaska:"
“You spend your whole life stuck in the Labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it someday… and imagining the future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape from the present.” I think John Green is a damn genius. We are so consumed with what’s next or where we are going. We forget to be present and aware of where we are. Who we’re with. That’s a side-effect of these “things.” It’s often said that there are three types of people in this world. People who, 1) help you in tough times; 2) leave you in tough times; and 3) put you through tough times. We get fooled into thinking that two of the three will change, they just need “one more chance.” We’re so worried about changing tomorrow that we’re willing to suffer through a million “todays.”
These “things,” they’re like parasites. They suck the life out of us, they gain power over us. We know that they’re bad, but they promise a false future. They’re bandwagoners, only coming around when situations are good, and leaving after they’re ruined. And no matter how hard we try, we can’t seem to see the absolute worst in these things because we know that somewhere within is a soul who used to be just like ours. One who’s big heart was also ruined by the will of this world. We see ourselves in these things, and that’s possibly the scariest part of all; that sometimes, we are our own problem… But, we’re also our own solution, and “Rome, too, is built on ruins” (Eliza Griswold).
