Taboo

I.
Standing on the precipice,
Debating whether or not to jump,
Is tricky, and moreso scary,
Because once you've decided,
That's it.

You can't change your mind
Once you're already plumeting
Towards your own destruction,
Or, running away from it,
Which is just as bad;
Since it means you're either
Immature, non-traditional, or a social deviant.

You'll spend the rest of your life
Trying to prove to everyone around you
That you're normal,
Just like them.
That you're human,
With human needs and desires,
Just like them.

And, if you decide to jump feet first
Into the canyon of destruction,
You'll spend the rest of your life
Regretful, miserable, and lost.
But you'll have proved to everyone
That you're normal,
Just like them.
You're a rational adult,
A full blooded American
With hopes and dreams
Destroyed by the decision to be
Just like them.

So, what is less depressing:
Personal freedom and ambition
Marred by condemnation and isolation?
Or, spiritual confinement and anxiety
Held together by a weak, empty comradery?
That is the only decision you have.

II.
You have pushed me toward a ledge,
And have asked me to consider
Jumping off.

You have asked me to consider the consequences
Of jumping, or running away,
Before I make my final decision.
You always knew how to frighten me
Into making the right decision.

But I am not sure if I can do that.
The request you have presented to me is
Monumental.
Whether to jeopardize what we have now,
And could have later,
For something we have seen damage
Our families, society, and Earth:
Children.
It seems so simple,
God told man to go fourth and multiply,
You say,
It's normal to have children,
And it's disturbing for a woman,
For me,
Not to want them.
You say,
I will not suffer from post-partum depression
Just because I was diagnosed with a personality disorder
When I was fourteen.
You say,
I don't have a personality disorder,
I'm normal,
Just like you.

And I say,
Jesus said it is the barren women that will be
Honored and saved.
The world is over crowded and
Resources are already running out at
Record breaking speeds.
I don't know if I can handle
Children.
I don't know that I can be that selfless,
I don't know if I am normal,
Just like you.

But you are relentless,
And so, you drop the conversation
Until I have driven it from my mind,
Until I have not mentioned it further,
Before you bring it up again.
Hoping to catch me off guard
Each time,
With a new tactic.
Feeding on my anxieties like,
Displeasing my loved ones,
The ones that want
Grandchildren or nieces and nephews.
So that, unprepared, I consider the possibility
For you,
To give you what you want,
To make you happy,
Despite my innermost desires to spend our lives
Alone, together
So that we may travel the world or
Read thousands of books in peace,
And travel, and rock climb, and mountain bike.
I consider following the footsteps of our friends, our parents,
Fulfilling the American dream and expectations,
In order that I might be normal,
Just like you,
Just like them,
Even when I am not.

But again,
I come to the conclusion that:
I still don' t think I can do it.