Where I've Been and Where I've Come
I got lost and then I got found again. And then I did it all over again. About a hundred times.
I feel I have to start with this, because this is when it all changed:
We were two broken people looking to be held, to be kept safe, to escape.
For then, at that time, we needed each other.
And when the period of months were over, We were over.
We had to walk on our own two feet, without each other. And face the wind.
But for those eight weeks, we kept each other safe, while the hurt would've been too much to bear.
We held each other until we were just mended just enough, to hold ourselves.
I ask myself if we'll cross our paths again.
I ask myself if you wonder about me, if you think about me. If it was real.
I replay it so many times in my head it feels like a myth.
But you held me while I held you.
And that's how I know it's real.
Because in our mess of tears, we were real.
Without any words.
Thank you for saving me when I needed saving.
Thank you for escaping with me when I needed escaping.
Maybe we will cross again, when we're whole again.
If we're meant to.
I broke and I broke until I cracked and I was gone. And then I was found. I simultaneously lost my people while I was found by my people. I lost myself while I was finding myself.
This is the thing about life, we can be broken and we can be found at the same time. Life is full of constant rerouting. Stemming away from our core and coming back to it.
I got caught up in all of it. In "does he like me?", in productivity, in always having a project on the go, in obsessing over what's next.
Sometimes I dread going to bed at night because I dread listening to all of the thoughts that come up.
And then I moved, but it all still followed.
Moving somewhere doesn't let us run from our problems and from ourselves. If anything that is all we are left with. Ourselves and our feelings. And those are a lot harder to battle on our own.
Life changes with love, life changes with connection and life changes with community. But sometimes we don't know the value of it all until we lose it. And then it's our choice. Do we risk the pain to find it again? Do we stay hidden?
Life requires risk. It requires hurt and pain to feel love and joy. We can hold both at the same time. And I can say that heart break is worth love every time.
When I'm laying at night in bed, crying to the same sad song over and over again it doesn’t feel worth it at times. But when I feel my body's response when I am in a state of joy, a state of love, fulfillment, connection. That moment is irreplaceable.
Grief comes when love has been felt. Grief is a sign that there was something real and pure there. And grief has no road map, grief has no timeline and grief has no boundaries. Grief doesn’t make sense. And it's not supposed to. Just like life and just like love. None of it makes sense but when we trust ourselves and when we follow our nudges, it's in those moments of love that make absolute perfect sense, with no words at all.
Sometimes I ask myself if it'll stop hurting. Sometimes I ask myself why I still cry over the thought of you. Sometimes I'm confused at what I miss or who I miss or if it's just the feeling of it that I want back. Sometimes I get angry with myself and wish it would hurry up, so the pain wasn't still there.
But it is a mark of a part of me and a part of life I shared with you. And would I really want that to disappear? Cause that would mean the mark you left may be gone.
When I'm left with just me I can become uneasy. But when I embrace the silence and the thoughts, I can feel more inside than ever before. And I remember I don't need you near me.
And the best part of pain? Aside from finding me, is finding my community. The people who hold me as I hold them.
We don't need to hold our big problems on our own. And moving across the country has truly shown me the people who will hold the weight of the world with me. And for that I'm forever grateful.
We are all a work in progress. I'm working on living for me and living in the now. For not wishing the present day away and constantly finding what's next.
I miss home and I miss my people. But what I've learned the most is that there are parts of home wherever I go and there's home forever inside of me.
I'm writing for me again. To get it all out, to feel it all and to live in the now. Not for a book and not for a blog. But for me. To know me. And to love me.