I am the middle ground.
The place you visit when you aren’t sure where you are going in life.
I can be your map on your worst days so you will always know which way is home.
Trace it back to the first time you realized you needed me. Was that before you passed point A or point B? You had already started your journey, but that time around you only discarded me.
You were so sure you knew the way, confident that you did not need me anymore. You didn’t even take the time to pack me away.
Crumpled up and left behind with the other parts of your past that you would rather just forget. Did you really think that your mind would never wander back to me? That you would never wonder what would have happened if you took a different turn?
I’m not sure anymore if I am the road less traveled by or the one trod so heavily, you can already see what you are destined for before you even begin.
I tried to warn you of the dangers up ahead, but you swore you knew better. You always knew better.
Fast forward to all of these months ahead, and you have found your way back to me. I’m impressed. But deep down, I think we both knew I was more than just an attraction on your way to the big event.
I am the halfway point you never knew you needed.
Come over here and rest a little while. Make me your home for as long as you see fit. Use me to recover from the hurt they have caused you and to catch your breath after all of this whirlwind.
I’m like the calm in the storm you’ve been praying for, for months. The rain after the drought you never thought would end. The one to pick you back up when you finally couldn’t stop yourself from falling.
The act of saving and helping others is rewarding. There is nothing more wonderful than knowing you helped someone feel the way they always deserved: better.
But after awhile, you start to wonder if that is your only purpose in their lives. When it seems like someone finally finds you, only to have them move on once they have had their fill.
When you spend your entire life worrying more about the pain of others than your own, you get tired. How many more misguided travelers will come your way before one realizes that you are more than just a rest stop on the road to something better. You are their something better.
I’m not saying that helping people is wrong. Knowing you have made a difference in someone’s life is one of the most beautiful experiences that life has to offer.
But within each beautiful rebirth is a hidden sadness that this time isn’t permanent either. This one is not going to stick around.
Sometimes, they just crumple you up, and you have to spend years smoothing out your edges and mending the rips and snags. You spend what seems like ages trying to get yourself to believe that you are worth more than the way they have made you feel. That you will eventually be more to someone than a trading post where they cash in their hurt for your happiness.
One day someone will pick you up and realize that you have always led to gold.