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Imagine feeling this way…
This so totally sucks, and I just don’t get how it happened.
I was a millionaire, and now I live as a slum dog… a hungry slum dog at that. Can it possibly get any worse? I’ve got to go back to where it all began. It’s not that I want to; I’ve just got to.
I’m heading back to the place that once offered me an option. One that I so easily rejected at the time, but has now become the only choice, as hard as it is to accept. I had requested and demanded a lot from my family at one point, knowing that I would not be able to go back and have things be the same. I didn’t mind because I made the right choice. Now, I’m going to go back, swallow my pride, and beg for them to take me back.
I am retracing the steps that I took so long ago, and questioning myself the entire way. How did it ever come to this? Maybe it was bad choices, bad luck, or just bad karma. I don’t really know and obsessing about it isn’t going to change the fact that I’ve still got to go back.
I am a man struggling between defiance and defeat. Unfortunately I have no energy to confess either. It scares me, and I long to guard my insecurities with anger, yet I know that will not solve anything. No, I’ll be humble, as I should be. This shouldn’t be a problem because I’m in stinky shambles. I’ll be sorry. Easy. I get it. My sins were against all that was holy, as well as against my father. I must accept this.
I have to come back. It’s a family thing, right? They’ve got to take me in… I hope. They might be ticked, maybe angry and resentful, or probably shocked that I had the nerve to return instead of crawling deep into some hole and fading into nothingness. They can treat me however they want because truthfully, I doubt I have a choice. If I’m fortunate I’ll be treated like family, but I must also accept that I could be treated as a slave, or even something lesser. It makes no difference how I live there, for I am not living right now…I’m slowly fading into the abyss. All I know is that I need for them to take me back; it is a matter of life or death.
However it plays out, I can’t imagine anyone will actually celebrate me home if I cannot celebrate my own return.
For Discussion: Is there an emptiness within the Prodigal Son that is still being experienced in today”s young people. Can you describe it? Please comment below with your critique clarifications, and responses.