Have I ever told you of my world? Or, more importantly, have I told you of the importance of my world? Probably not.. I tell many of my world, but the importance of it is something I even tend to forget myself. I constantly need to remind myself of it. Which is what I am working on these days.
My world... It's were I grew up. And while I was living behind my masks in the real world, the real me grew and developed within my world, and become the one I truly am deep down inside. It's that world that has kept me alive, and I owe it everything. Without it, I am nothing. Without it, I am not ME. I am a part of that world, just like that world is a part of me, and you can never have one without the other. That is simply the plain truth.
I call it "my world", but it is only because it is my home. The world isn't mine, as it is not something anyone can own. It just is. I write about it, draw things and people from it, and talk about it. But I do not own it. And I did not create it. No matter what people might say or think, this world is not my creation. It has always been there, and I just simply learned to "connect" with it. I am its medium, and I use myself to tell its story. But I did not create it.
This world is everything. And I would give my life for it.
It started when I was little. I didn't really have many friends, and I was often abandoned. I don't remember much of my childhood, but what I do remember is the loneliness. And the feeling of not being loved. And then she lighted up my life. I don't know when she first appeared before me, but according to my mother I have been talking about her ever since I first learned to talk. I think she might've been there, by my side, all my life. Since my birth. And she stayed with me, when everyone else left, and protected me. It didn't matter that no one else could see her, and that they all giggled at me and my "imaginary friend" and how "overactive" my imagination was, cause I had her. I had Elizabeth.
Elizabeth told me things. She told me of the world that was my true home, and how things were there. She inspired me to draw and write, and act (I loved acting as a kid) and dance, and to submerge myself in the world of gaming. She always encouraged me, whenever I turned to that one specific spot within my mind where I could "connect" with that world she spoke of, and acted as my guide. And the more I connected with it, the more I saw of it. The more information I was given about it. And the moment I closed the door to my room after a day of living behind masks in front of others, I opened up the gates to that world and lived freely as myself. I was home.
As the years passed, and I grew older, I learned to be more careful with letting people know the things I knew. I denied my connection, and stopped talking about my world, and about Elizabeth. I realized that people expected me to "grow up" and leave such "childish" things behind. And so I pretended that I did, and Elizabeth became harder for me to see and communicate with. It was painful, but chained to my masks I had no other choice.
Then I met the girl that became the source of my pain and my happiness, and it turned out that she was the same. She had that connection I had, and could see into that world, and I finally found someone I could share it with. We shared worlds between us... Literally. Me with my guide, Elizabeth, by my side, and her with her guide by her side, we explored that world and met new people in it. We were unstoppable. And I learned to love and adore her, and eventually become obsessed with her. She was the only person who could understand what it was like, seeing the things I saw, and knowing the things I knew. How could I not love her? And for 15 years, that's what I did. I loved her with all my being, and I loved her connection and the things and people she introduced me to, and I learned to depend on it all. I came to a point where I honestly thought I could not live without it.
Needless to say, she turned her back on me, and everything we had together. Our connection, our world, our love. But, I've already ranted on about her in a previous entry, that ex-traterrestrial girlfriend of mine. And this entry is not about her. So, I'm gonna leave it at that, when it comes to her.
Several years ago, after moving away from my home town, I met people who introduced me to the world of old school roleplaying, and I started playing Dungeons and Dragons. It was a whole new world of possibilities, and I immediately started writing and drawing on a project I am still working on to this day. My world, my home... What better way to introduce others to it, than by creating a roleplay out of it? A perfect plan, that, and one I still cling to. Of course, my real dream now is to make a mmorpg, but it's a work in progress.
Either way, what I want is for others to see. And to know. Because I still see them. Elizabeth, and the other people she introduced me to, are still by my side. Sure, I refer to them as my "characters" when I talk of them, but the truth is that they are so much more. I see them, and I talk to them, and without them I would not be alive. I owe them my life.
You can not imagine, what it is like, standing on that edge, ready to jump, unless you've been there yourself. The pain inside you is just too much, and you're too tired of fighting it. You finally come to a point where giving up is the only thing you're able to do. And you accept that this is the end of you, and your life. You're ready to die.
I've been there... Oh, I've been there so many times, you have no idea.
No one knows how many times you've all been close to losing me. Forever.
And how close it's truly been.
At that point, that small percentage of a second, right before I would end it all, she stood there. And time stopped. Looking into her eyes, the eyes of the one person who has been with me all my life, protecting me and guiding me, while standing on that edge, is something I will never be able to describe. And her words... "Without you, I am not. Without you, we will all be forgotten. If you don't tell our story, who will?" And in that second, she stopped me. She saved my life.
Whenever I was back on that edge, she'd repeat those words. And stop me. Because, deep inside I knew she was right. If I died, no one would tell the story of the people only I could communicate with. No one would even know they existed. Death just simply isn't an option for me. At least not until the world knows. Not until they all see what I see, and know what I know. Then, maybe, death can become an option.
So, you see, when I tell people that my world and my "characters" mean everything to me, and that I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for them, then I mean it quite literally.
Today I speak losely of my world and my "characters" and how I obsess over it and work on it. I can tell people many things about that world, and the people in it, when they ask me about it. But never, not even once, do I tell them the truth of it. I don't tell them that these "characters" are my closest friends and my family, and I talk to them almost daily - when they have the time to visit me. I don't tell them that this "imaginary" world I have "created" is a real place I connect to and receive information about just so I can write it all down and share it with the world. I don't tell them about how that world, and the people in it, have saved my life many times. And I don't tell them that the reason for why I don't give my heart to anyone is that my heart have already been given away...
You've seen me "talking to myself" a couple of times, perhaps? Maybe you've heard me laugh about something funny and tell you that it was an inside thing you wouldn't understand? Or, maybe you've even experienced me suddenly "changing my personality" completely out of the blue? Of course. That is the only thing I let you see. Everything else, I hide. Along with the truth.
One day, maybe, I'll have the courage to show the world the truth. One day, I might be able to walk freely outside, conversing with my friends, without fearing what others will think of me. One day, I pray, the world will know who I am.
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