Anchor

In this hour of chaos, where the mist of uncertainty clouds my mind and the poison of doubt corrupts it, I can't help but realize something.
Funny, how we preach that our anchor should be someone who connects us to sanity and clears all that pushes us into the dark, but choose someone for an anchor who shatters us, fully, without leaving one ounce of our body unbroken.

Funny, truly it is, that I chose my anchor to be someone much worse.

At least with others, there's a chance of recuperation, for broken pieces to be brought together to form something stronger.
With mine, none.

My anchor consumed the flawed me, leaving no trace of who I was.
Challenged every thing I believed in, only to get stronger.

When they think of it this way, I see what I call my anchor, as parasitic, something far from what could possibly keep you from insanity.
The idea of it feeding on me haunts them. But, I keep telling them, and maybe a part of me, that it isn't true.

Speculation always gets me to how we think we're epitome of all things pure, when in fact, we are all things that they consider wrong.
Somewhere in our defense, we relate to, or at least pretend to relate to anything we find pure, and shun everything that defies purity, of course, according to them.

However, I've come to realize that whatever we use in our defense, it is inevitable that we be what we are, vulnerable.
That's why, I find wrong much more genuine, guilt much more real, and mistakes much more important and empirical than they're shown to be.

Coming back to my anchor, they hate it when I talk about it, but can barely resist trying to validate it when they know who it is. Much like what they do in their defense.

When they ask why I have someone like that as my anchor to the world, I have hardly anything in my defense.
I can hardly justify why I believe wrong is genuine, and that to be more heroic than needed, a symbol of baggage and flaw. I cannot say why I'd rather be king than be hero, but I know that in being whatever I choose to be, I be myself. My anchor.