My Mind Is Slipping (part 2)

It’s been days. And I didn’t do it. So many hours, and so many minutes went by, and I didn’t do it. Two sundowns and one sunrise passed and I didn’t go to Him. I didn’t seek my Creator.

And yet my mind is still slipping. Slipping into the broken pieces of my heart and once again creating that false reality that my life isn’t really as it seems. But it’s not as it seems because I’ve let my mind slip, it’s because at one point my life was a lie.

There were endless kisses and promises and a peridot to ensure a perfect life but that was a false reality. The truth had hit me like Regina George had walked right into that bus. But that was a false reality too. Nothing could ever be the same.

Now I receive fragments from a reality that was once lived. That hour had passed. It was a new one. But it was so hard to believe. It still is.

How can I be sure my life won’t shatter in that way again? I’m not a psychic, and I will never go to one. If that hour in my life has passed why am I having nightmares about it?

Maybe The Creator is putting it in my mind because it’s actually happening. Maybe the dark side of my mind is deceiving me once again. I mean because I feel whole on the outside. I feel put together for the most part. But then I dig so far into my brain and make something out of nothing. But I don’t think of it as nothing. It seems sometimes as a slight pattern of the past. A pattern that would reveal the false reality in which I had been living. Is it happening again? In my heart I’m secure. But it’s in my mind. It’s in my mind where things aren’t working right. I am not the Creator and I can’t get into the minds of others and know the truth. I am at a standstill until I ask Him.

I got a new book. One where a woman discovers the same false reality that I had discovered a few months back. Could that be it? Could that be why fragments of my past are coming back to question what I’d been living now? This very second? Is my subconscious soaking in my insecurities through a fictional situation, making me believe that is also my current life? But if it is… well dang! I am a writer, a writer who loves to read, who needs to read! That’s how a writer becomes great, by reading. So what? I shouldn’t read books like that? Why can’t I enjoy a fictional story that subjects an interesting topic? So juicy and captivating, I got it on Monday and today is Wednesday and I am almost finished. The book has over forty chapters and each chapter is at least 8 pages. The book is good. But that’s not fair. My mind has got to be slipping if can’t read a book without questioning my own reality.

My creator is far from me. Because I have put Him there. I’ll bring Him Back. He will receive me.