Little ball of light

This is the first time that I have actually sat down and just written something. I feel kind of proud of my way of actually getting out the weird wave of emotions I got by seeing a lamp out of place..

It was late at night...late meaning eleven, but for a day filled with cramps and hormonal outbursts 11 o’clock was late enough for me to hit my sheets and call it a day. Anxiously thinking about how tomorrow would be the last day before having two social encounters 2 days in a row. Trying to convince myself not to cancel either one or both as I have done so many times in the past with both parties. The anxiety of not being able to sit in my bed comforted by a blanket and a cup of tea with my social media, Netflix and books to seek for an escape into a world that is not this one.
Not that I mind this one. I just don’t want to be present in it. For now, that is. Someday...I will be present. Someday when I am thin, emotionally stable, surrounded by people who adore me, when all my flaws will be belittled to small cute quirks and not giant monsters devouring me, as dramatic as that sounds.
My newest book was laying downstairs and even though I wasn’t too keen on reading it I still felt at least an obligation for it to lie on my bedside table. Bedside table meaning the worn out box I put there to seem special, modern maybe. Rustic, to have a style of my own even though that style is imprinted through media and pop culture. But none the less my consumer brain lets me believe that I am a forward thinker in turning a box upside down and putting a lamp on it.
I don’t bother putting on clothes to go downstairs, everyone should be safely tucked away in their bed. Everyone meaning my parents. I do give a quick glance, left, right like a kid about to cross the street before I cautiously walk out. My feet light not to make any noise. It is first then that I see the big ball of light in front of me. Never before has it been in my path, staring right back at me, it has always been somewhere else. Just in my line of sight, above me or beside me. But never in front of me. Never something that I would have to face, to actively have to move around or walk in to. This confrontation leaves me speechless, not that I would have said anything otherwise since I am naked on a stairwell ‘late’ at night. I try to brush it aside, finding the logic behind its sudden appearance. Ah. The cord that held it out of direct view had fallen which had made it fall around half a meter, pushing it into my line of view. I try not to think about it. Instead I think about my book, retracing my steps to find its location but that ball of light is once again in the back of my mind. Nagging me. And as I finally find my book and start to make my return to my room I see the ball of light once again. Making me pause abruptly as I have to rationalize once again. Still surprised even though I knew that it was there. Right in front of me. It feels weird going around it. Wrong. I know I should put it back in place. Back where I won’t be able to see it. Back where I can safely ignore it, act like it really isn’t there. But I know I can’t. It is now here, it is now in front of me. Yeah I can walk away or around it. But that won’t mean it won’t be there tomorrow, the day after tomorrow. Forever until I finally put it back in its place or take it down for good. But it is late at night and it is too much work. I’ll do it tomorrow. Maybe I can get someone else to put it back up. Maybe I can just ignore it and someone else will just fix it. Or maybe it will fix itself? No. Such things won’t fix itself.
As I walk past I can feel it engraving itself into my brain. Leaving a permanent mark and making me unable to think of anything else but its existence. But you don’t fix such a thing overnight, and I don’t have the commitment to do it now or maybe ever. And I have to make a choice of whether or not I can live with that. I absentmindedly place my book on my oh so creative bedside table and tug myself in under the covers. The light still nagging at me. I know it is out there. I know that it will be there tomorrow. I know no one but me can fix it. My thoughts are all consumed and I try to figure out why it is there. Why I am the one who has to fix it. But I can’t deal with it now. I am tired, exhausted. I can’t deal with a ball of light blocking my way on top of everything else. After thinking about it. For many hours…or maybe minutes…maybe even seconds I stand up. I know what I have to do. Again I walk out, though this time my steps aren’t cautious. This time I don’t worried look both sides before walking out of my room. I walk out and I grab the ball of light. Its shiny aura burning my fingers as they clench around the glass surface  before I throw it hard into the wall. The glass surrounding it shatters all around me. Down the steps of the stairs as they are spread through the better part of what I call my home. But what remains is a light bulb. And even though its size is now 10 times smaller it still shines just as bright and its ugly shards covering what I thought of as my safe haven.