want to accept me and not hurt me again...!"
"Poor, sweet, innocent child! Still trying so hard to be loved. Have all my words been for naught? You seemed like you were finally starting to attain a grasp on the truth before, but now you seem to be backpedaling. What changed? You still do not want to believe in a bleak worldview that doesn't serve the idealistic view of the world you would rather believe? Do you need to go back to the recent past and look upon the truth once again?"
"I don't want to relive that! Don't you dare send me into another vision!"
"But, child, it will be good for you! You are going down the wrong path again. I see it, and my heart wells up with compassion for you. The truth must be illuminated for you to able cast out the shadows you have placed over your mind!"
"NO! I don't want to... ugh."
His head began to swim as once again the pit began to slowly fade out of existence.
"Come, child! Just one more time. See reality as it really is... give into the truth..."
Christian gained the attention of a major prominent artist. The artist told Christian that he showed true potential, and probably had a bright future in the art world. Christian felt more elated than ever. It was like being caught up in a dream, and he never wanted the dream to end. He felt a camaraderie and sense of belonging with the Art League like he'd never felt before. He wanted to freeze time and keep it just like this for the rest of his life.
Nevertheless, the more he got involved with the group, the more a deep, paralyzing fear began to come over him. He started to fear that it might not last forever. He started thinking about the friends he'd had when he was younger. He had felt happy, secure, and a part of that group too. He had ended up eventually becoming an outcast.
He was a part of this group now, but what if he became an outcast here, too? What if someday they rejected him just like all his past friends did? It had taken him so long to make friends and actually have people come back into his life. He was so scared of losing that.
A strange thought came into his head. What if he really hadn't been pursuing acting for love of the craft? What if he just wanted to find people who actually cared about him? A place where he belonged and was accepted unconditionally?
The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was probably true. He WOULD have done anything if only it meant quelling the deep hurt inside of him. He also realized he was still hurting. Bad.
He was hurting more now, ironically, because he felt he hadn't done anything to deserve the acceptance he had found now. Surely when these people got to know more about him, got to know him just a little better, they would eventually give up on him just like everyone else had done in his life.
No, he could not let that happen at all costs. He would do or say anything in order to stay a part. He would not give them a reason or allow them to reject him. He would keep his true self guarded very carefully.
(15)
In the vision, everything once again appeared like the previous two.
Everything shrouded in a foggy haze, except for the important aspects the vision wanted to focus on.
In this one, he was sitting around with a group of other people. This was not so long ago. It was quite recent, in fact, but it was something he had wanted to push out of his mind and forget forever.
The group of people sat laughing and talking with each other. He was a part of it. These were his friends. By some stroke of luck in his life, he had, for once, found a place where he shared a kinship with others. Somewhere that he belonged. But there was one problem.
The face he was wearing wasn't real. It was a mask. One that he had very carefully crafted. He didn't really want to be wearing the mask, but if he had revealed his true self, his weaknesses and vulnerability might show. Many others throughout his life had already shunned and cast him aside. Why should these people not do the same?
He couldn't fathom why they had taken interest in him in the first place. It was a mystery to him. He knew better, though, than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He didn't want to ruin it. He would do anything to hold on at all cost. So thus, he crafted the mask. It fit his face well, or so he thought.
As the group sat laughing and talking, they suddenly started looking towards him, and the looks on their faces started changing to shock and horror.
At first, he couldn't understand why they were looking at him like that, but suddenly he felt something running down his face, and reached up to feel it. He was horrified to realize his mask was no longer staying conformed to his face. Rather, it was beginning to melt and crumble apart.
Panicking, he immediately starting trying to take the globby mess into his hands, and began trying to arrange it into something that was more decent looking and pleasing, but the harder he tried, the more and more grotesque he began to make himself look.
One by one, his friends started to get up and walk away in disgust. He freaked out and started pleading for them to come back and stay, but his words fell on deaf ears until he eventually collapsed onto his hands and knees and started sobbing, his tears intermingling with the melting, deformed face that now clung to his skin...
Things were not going so well for Christian anymore. He couldn't really pinpoint where things had shifted, but he felt like his biggest fear was starting to actually come true.
He was trying so hard to fit in and be like everyone else. But as time drew on, he started to feel like he was going in the opposite direction.
More and more he struggled with the feeling of not fitting in. He judged himself harshly for everything he said and did.
He sold a few more paintings, but he found people were paying less attention to them than before. He started to find out that the core group had also been going out and doing more activities without him. Wasn't he supposed to have been part of the core group? In the beginning, whenever the group did anything, he had been made a part, even a valued part. But now he knew for certain that he was being deliberately excluded.
What had changed? He had tried so hard. He had tried to be everything they would have wanted him to be. How could he be trying so hard and yet finding himself ever so far away?
His hurt came to a boil one night when he finally started calling people out on it, but nobody was really willing to give him any straight answers. He finally degraded to picking fights with people, his voice becoming more and more raised, until eventually he was causing quite a ruckus. Tristan finally just threw up his arms and walked away, refusing to talk to him anymore.
Christian stormed home that night and collapsed on his bed. He was feeling more pain than he'd ever felt before, if that was even possible. How had things gone so wrong? He knew that after the things he had said and done tonight there was no fixing it. He had really blown it. The one chance for fulfillment and happiness that had finally come his way, and he had wrecked it all in one night. He angrily cried himself to sleep, hating himself more than ever.
(16)
When he faded back from the vision to the pit, he realized he was crying.
"Do you feel the pain? The intense sorrow they made you go through? Why would you WANT to wear another mask? Why would you ever again want to be a part of these people? Why should you ever want to have anything to do with anyone ever again? Listen, because I speak the truth. You will NEVER find happiness! No one will EVER love you! You are only fooling yourself if you think the possibility exists. Keep trying if you feel so inclined! See how that goes for you! Go ahead and try for all eternity!
“Just remember: there are only two options for your life, two options and not one more: Death or Hatred.
“The option of Death is the easiest. With it, you will never feel again. There will be no more pain nor sorrow! Just let go! Allow yourself to plunge down to the very bottom of the pit! Let the sweet blackness wash over you, and free yourself of your pain!
“The path of Hatred is harder. With Hate and Malice, you can hope to regain some happiness, but don't ever let your guard down! A dagger for the backs o
f every person that comes into your life! Always keep them at arm's length, but not too close! You will have to learn to hurt people before they have a chance to hurt you!
“When you see the first signs of betrayal beginning to form, as they most certainly will with every person you meet, grab them first and plunge your dagger straight into their hearts! Bring their lives to utter ruin, before they can ruin yours! It is the only way to live in such a cold, callous world!"
"And what if I don't want to take either option?" the young man said.
"Then enjoy the endless misery! I've said my peace. I have no more words for the ears of the deaf!"
The young man thought as he climbed, it was hard to tell which hurt more at this point: the physical wounds he had endured, or the intense emotional pain on the inside. He wanted so much to be loved, but if the words of the voice were true, then it meant that he could never be loved.
He did not want to live in a world like that. He looked up at the people above him. He found himself reaching out with his left hand towards the top of the hole. Futile, he knew, he wasn't yet nearly close enough to the top. But he found himself reaching out, nevertheless.
Oh, how he wished for someone to just reach down, pull him up, pull him into an embrace. Hold him. Take all this horrible pain away. Yet, there would be no such thing, would there? As he looked up