My life is uneven. Like the picture that I hung in my room to tie all of the colors together, it’s just a little off from being perfectly level. The unbalance causes everything to shift, and almost always in the direction of pessimism. There’s just a little more weight to that side, so allowing the picture to lean in the direction of optimism would make it obvious how askew it really is. Right now it’s just obvious to me.
One day I’ll decide to let the unbalance go. I’ll still know deep down that it’s uneven, but it will just make it quirky and special. Then my mom, another relative or a friend will see it, and she’ll comment on how slanted it is. I’ll try to say “It’s not that bad,” and if she even seems to be continuing to think about it say “It’s just how it is. It makes it special and anyways it’s mine and that’s how I chose to hang it so if you don’t like it then walk away!” By the end my eyes will probably be tearing up.
She’ll feel awful. I’ll feel awful. She’ll walk away, not really knowing what she did wrong, but not wanting to hurt me any more. I’ll stare at the picture and descend into madness. By this point, I am crying, and I’m shaking uncontrollably. I’ll take the picture down. but the change will upset me even more, so I’ll put it back up. Now the slant is even worse. I’ll lie down, lying on my side so that I can’t see it, but I still know it’s there. It’s uneven, and it’s staring me down, wondering why I can’t even put a picture up with the base parallel to the floor.
I’ll close my eyes, and I’ll cry myself to sleep. I’ll wake up, and the picture will still be tilted. I’ll sigh when I look at it, then I’ll get dressed and try to make it through the day. Eventually I’ll find myself at the strange equilibrium I was before someone pointed it out. Today might not be that day, and I may be silent for hours today as my head falls into a civil war, but eventually I’ll be okay. The picture can balance at its uneven point and so can I.