The chairs I put down to watch myself

The theater I so elaborately built unravels and spreads out the moment i open my eyes. The actors step on quickly, wasting no time bustling about, preparing themselves for the inevitable victory of mine that i meticulously craft every second.

The observer i built in my mind observes me going about my daily life.

I pick up a new book to read, and they are awestruck at my reading speed.

I wrestle hard and finally understand a complex idea, and the observer(s) applaud in earnest.

I wonder when exactly i grew afraid of meeting myself raw and head-on.

The most perplexing thing here would be the fact that if, in real life, a group of people look down on the things i enjoy, I would feel secure enough in myself that their derision would not hit home. So why am i too eager to step onto my made up stage to earn my made up victory?

Perhaps I'm secure enough to not constantly gnaw at myself, but not enough to meet people as I am. But the validation seeking part of myself still needs its fix. The ideas seeded in my mind by the books I read so fast have to be discussed somewhere. Perhaps that is why I build and walk this path.

I could trace this behavior down to its roots, I think. I can see why a child who grew up in a tense household learned to study the temperament and opinions of others to calm herself, when her peace depended heavily on their level of contentment.

But somewhere down the lane, the weight of ownership lies in my hand instead, doesn't it? Especially as time goes by, and the space where i could've found the opportunity and responsibility to take up things in my own hands keeps growing. And at one point, when i look back at it, the emptiness of the space where i could've acted, could've stepped in would seem larger than the cause itself.

I cannot kill my observers outright, but here's to the conviction that I'd bring the stage down, brick by brick, while i give myself the space to step in slowly - but surely, because even now, I can see the child that was forced to sprint where she wanted to linger, and I refuse to let myself be forgotten again.