L.C. McQuillen
12.04.17
I feel exposed. My soul sits naked under a microscope of another.
I gasp at the realization that being in company has given to me.
I am not alone anymore. When I am alone, I am the smartest, the bravest, the leader. When I am alone.
That isn’t the case right now, although. I have been caught up with, spun about in a whirl of conversation, and seemingly moved to the back. The outer premises. Where I find myself looking over shoulders and following after feet, as if I have lost the ability to do so on my own.
Maybe it is I who should be snatching the lens of this microscope, searching for a minuscule part of myself that contributes to the ones who have become my bearers. Maybe it is I, who’s pride has undressed my essence. Maybe it is I.
But there is a small part of me that does not resent being surrounded by people that are moving the mountains. There is a small part of me that knows I can not do so by myself, so whether my feet are being lifted by feet under mine, or whether I am confined to the point where I can move no other way, a small part of me admits to the whole, that this is okay.
I am an independent entity and nothing can diminish that. No matter how smushed together I am amongst others. No matter how uniform or in sync people discern me to be. I am not tethered. I tell myself. I choose to be.