Have you ever had a couch on the wall in your room? And one day you decide to move that couch out of your house and there is an indentation in your carpet. And your wall looks bare. And your room feels strange. For months people come to your house and ask you, “what happen to your couch, your house looks so different.” Until every person who has ever been to your house sees your room without that couch, you have to tell this story over and over again why it is no longer there. Some people come over everyday and tell you how weird your house looks without that couch. They suggest to you that maybe you should get another couch, a better couch to fill that wall. Or, they remind you how stupid you were to get rid of that couch that looked so perfect in that spot.
Maybe you remember what that wall and that carpet looked like before you ever had that couch. Maybe that couch became so ingrained in your definition of that room that yes, it is notably and deliberately uncomfortable. Maybe there was nothing wrong with the couch aside from the fact that you just did not want it any more. Perhaps you were hasty in getting rid of a worn yet usable piece of furniture; your friends have no where to sit, you must admit that the house does feel strange without it and nothing else looks or feel right in that place.
Until one day, its absence is no longer strange. And one day after that its absence is irrelevant to the make up of the room.
Because there are some people who can never see you past what you used to be. There are some people who, by habit, will constantly remind you of what you had and never consider the possibilities of the blank spaces in you life. Some will always see holes, indentations and strangeness. They will never seek to know you outside of the person you were when they met you.
Why things change becomes irrelevant at the point of loneliness. And many people view loneliness as the absence of something. But maybe it is the most beautiful relationship of all. There might be tears and imperfections. There might be stains, mistakes and you might be here with or without consent. But you might fall in love with yourself. You might fall in love with God. You might feel so much like yourself that all the holes that are there don’t even feel like they exist anymore.
What if you said fuck that couch and you decided to paint the mural of your heart on that empty wall.
