This piece is something I’ve written back in April, but never shared it out of fear. Back then fear was holding me back a lot. To a certain degree it still does. I hope sharing this with the world is the start of breaking through that restriction I’ve placed upon myself.
Today I saw the first butterfly of the year. It was one of those red-brown ones with an eye on its wings. I used to love those as a kid.
I saw it as I was climbing my way through the boulder gym. It took a while to realise it was trapped. It flapped its wings as it tried to move through the glass. After a while, it stopped moving but kept feeling with its antennas over the glass. Still looking for a way out. It could see the sun as clearly as I could. But it couldn’t grasp what I could: no one can move through the glass.
I stopped for a while looking at this little insect that represented the arrival of spring for me. Butterflies always made me happy. Very few insects do. But this one filled me with sadness. I tried to think of a way to free it. But there was no way to open up a window. Catching it would break its fragile wings. And chasing it would do more harm than good. So I sat there watching it.
The resemblance between myself and the butterfly was all too clear. So clear it actually hurt. We both could see the sun, smell the outside air and even feel a little breeze. But it is out of our reach. Only for me, it isn’t the actual sun that’s calling me. It’s a happy life. One where I’m not bogged down by these feelings of depression, anger, hurt and loneliness. I can see it all so clearly. And yet it’s out of reach. Like the butterfly, I keep bumping into the glass. No way through and no way out. Sometimes I wonder how long I will have to slam into the glass before I realise there is a door next to me. And it has been there all along.
In the end, like the butterfly, I have to find a way out all by myself.