Words
I lost my confidence the other day. I could have sworn I set it down next to my sex drive and will to live in its usual spot op top of the dresser before I went to bed, but when I woke up in the morning, it was gone. It's hard to miss: small yet heavy with the burden of ambition, I took it everywhere with me but was always sure to put it back in its place at the end of each day. Sex drive and will to live were still there, but where confidence should have been was just a void of nothingness. With confidence gone, sex drive and will to live are off balance. Like loaded dice, you can tell something is off with them just by holding them.
The odds are against me now. Sex drive and confidence would have led to an albeit short but fun life without the will to live. And I would most likely have ended up becoming a stamp collector or a bird-watching enthusiast who would live into their 90s with just the will to live and confidence. But with just the will to live and sex drive, I feel lost. How can I fulfill my sex drive without having the confidence to ask someone out? And how will I go on living without a backbone to stand up for myself?
I turned my apartment inside out looking for my lost confidence. I checked under the bed, beneath cushions on the sofa, and behind the refrigerator. I even took a day off from work to retrace my steps, but by the end of the day, it was clear that confidence was gone. Perhaps it sprouted legs and walked off to someone who needed it more than I. Wishful thinking; what's more likely is I took it for granted, grew overconfident, and pushed it to its limits so intensely that it silently exploded in the middle of the night.
Life hasn't been the same since. Everything seems to be missing the spark that lit the fires of passion. Work is a slog, and I wake up in the morning wanting to quit, but I don't dare to tell my boss. I had a date cancel on me at the last minute, and I fear it may be my last. What's left of my life is just kindling, and it's as if the smallest of storms could scatter the smoldering embers, extinguishing what remains of my life.
Perhaps one day I'll find my confidence tucked away in the back of the junk drawer or sandwiched between some old family photos. Maybe I'll even find it nestled in some tall grass while walking in the park. But that could just be will to live speaking. I'm getting ready to put posters up around my neighborhood, asking if anyone has seen my confidence. I'll even offer a cash reward to anyone who returns it. No questions asked.