Save Me

 I’ve always loved fairytales. The stories always begin where we find our main character in a state of woe whether it be from curse or misfortune. We are taken on the journey of their quest to break free, always assured that they will be saved by the “Prince Charming” or “Fairy Godmother” that always shows up to rescue the damsel in distress. Without fail, we always see the happy ending. 

As I sit here on my lunch break in my car, I wonder if perhaps I’ll ever be saved. 

I light another cigarette from the pack I just brought although I’m suppose to be quitting.   I’ve been waiting on a Prince Charming to save me since forever. I wouldn’t consider myself necessarily a damsel but I do identity with being in distress. I wait patiently, wondering day after day year after year if he will be coming. As I got older the “Prince Charming” went from the physical representation of a romantic love to more of want, a need, to be loved by anyone.  I had become consumed in finding love and acceptance from everyone and everything. In essence I went from seeking Prince Charming to doing everything to be Prince Charming myself. Only to end in failure and disappointment. 

I finally make my way back to the office. I get back to emails and phone calls hoping to take my mind off the subject but I can’t. I feel shame and weak. Come on! You know fairytales aren’t real. Yet though I tell myself that…

I want someone to save me. 

It hurts admitting it. I try to numb myself again but can’t. It’s something that has been bothering me, a lot more lately than usual. It’s not that I want someone to take care of me, but more so that-I guess I just need someone to tell me it’s going to be alright. That it’s ok for me to breathe again. That I am loved. That I am worthy. 

I finish my work day only to return to my car and sit again with my thoughts, again being bothered and ashamed about the desire to be saved. I try to find reason, seeking my knowledge of philosophical works and spiritual scripture that I’ve read and studied. I even reflect over my thoughts, drafts and pieces that I’ve written myself. My hope is to seek an answer to this dilemma- water for the thirst if you will. Of course there is the obvious answer of “No one is coming to save you, you have God,”- all the self motivation and self love cliches and reasonings come to mind. But it doesn’t satisfy my conscious. 

I thus direct my attention to the why. Why do  I want to be saved? I sit with that for a moment or five. 

Therapy and healing over the years have helped me to identify that I have serious abandonment issues leading to my other problem of commitment issues. It’s hard to love deep, to develop a sense of yourself with the world when all you come to expect is to be thrown away eventually. Even trash at some point was loved before it was disregarded. Even more, if such a real force would present itself I would sabotage it on my fear of self preservation while all the same nurturing a force that continues to destabilize me all the while hoping I can change it, I can save it. After all if I save it, it can save me right? 

*Sigh* It’s getting dark. Better head home. 

After a good hot shower and a smoothie for dinner, I sit in the dark of my living room. I find myself scrolling through posts about who knows what only to retire my focus back to the question at hand. 

After all, if I save it, it can save me right? 

I knew the answer. It’s so simple on the surface. But when have emotions and desires ever been simple? Is it not the roots that brings the the flower to bloom? The root of my truth was that I knew I was desiring to be saved from things that could not save me. That it is my ego rather than my desire in itself to be saved.  That I could prove by my own might. That I could produce something worthy, something worth saving thus making me worthy and saving me. 

A week later, I’m in my living room, lying on my futon. The lights are out, the window is cracked. The sounds of Chicago even in the dawn of night brings me into a weird sense of calmness. I drift into wonder yet again. Do I feel safe now, in this present moment that I just described? Yes. But why? What about this moment brings me peace? 

It’s been a long day and I’m reveling in the feats I was able to accomplish today. As I lay here defeated from the exhaustion of these accomplishments, I realize I am left with nothing but myself. No credentials, titles, tasks, or responsibilities. Just me, my breathes and my thoughts. In this moment I feel a connection to self, something I haven’t really experienced in quite a long time if at all. 

I want to be me. But who am I?