You might be wondering about the recesses of Hell that I'm going through. There are nine circles in Dante's Inferno. Nine ways to be tormented. I feel like I am there, swimming in the sea a brimstone and fire, slowly burning into ash.
I thought I knew what loss and hurt were. I thought I understood a little something about disappointment, but I was wrong. It gets worse. Pain can always sear deeper into your flesh and there is always something more to lose.
My agent, who has had my book for over two months, who was supposed to help me sell it, has decided not to represent me. At the hardest time in my life, she dropped me as a client. And she's known what has been happening. She has been there with me, talking to me on the phone as I cried. She is the one who suggested I take a few months off and gather myself. But I guess her plan all along was to slowly let me go. She says that she doesn't want to represent fantasy anymore, so I'm out. Last year, she thought I would be famous. She thought I would be at Comic Con prompting the movie that came from my book. But she changed her mind when I didn't get picked up by a publisher on the first round.
I had always hoped and prayed that getting this book published would not only be a way for me to support my family, but a gift at the end of this long, harrowing road. A bright spot in the darkness. But there are no lights at the end of the tunnel. There is no hope. There is only continuing to exist. Dreams are just dreams, foolish inventions of the mind to help us cope with the harsh realities of life.
I thought everything that could be taken away from me had been. I didn't have much to begin with, but the desires of my heart continue to be ripped from my life. I couldn’t find a real teaching job to save my life. My family is broken. My sons will grow up without a father. And I will never be enough.
I wish I could say that God does not exist, but I have seen him in my children. Seth has enough faith for the both of us. Seth is the reason I have not stopped going to church. He will be a good man, perhaps the best in the history of mankind, and it will be because of his faith and gratitude. He is the rock of my life. And Benny remains my beautiful beast who always knows the right moment to say, "I love you, Mama. You're the best mommy in the world."
I know things could be worse. I have my boys and my family and friends who love and supposed me. At least I have that. But I don’t know what else I have. Not much. A crappy apartment and a job that doesn’t pay enough. A talent that tortures me.
I do not know why this continues to happen. Is the Lord laughing at me or steeling me up from something more. At the end of this, I will either be the strongest woman alive or the weakest. Is it selfish to want prayers answered? Is it wrong to chase the life you've always wanted? Is it horrible to want more than you are given? I am not questioning if God exists, but if he hears me or even cares. He has not spoken to me in so long, but I have continued to pray to him, waiting on his timing. Yet he stays silent, withholding the world from me.
Eighteen months ago, when I was still trying to get an agent, I had never prayed more for anything in my life. I begged and pleaded, and finally my prayers were answered. I knew that this book would be published. I knew it with certainty. Then when I was in that slave cabin in Charleston, I felt another confirmation. But maybe that wasn’t the Lord speaking to me at all. Maybe it was head telling me heart what it wanted to hear.
People keep telling me not to give up, but that’s what I’ve been doing. I have been fighting for years. Giving up is not in my nature. I am relentless. Or crazy. I have been trying and trying. But I’m so tired. So tired.
Till I beheld through a round aperture
Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars."
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