I have been away. Too long.
Now I am back. And it hurts to talk why I was gone in the first place.
Each time I feel like I am flailing I turn to writing – because writing allows me to have control over things I, under usual circumstances, would mess or wreck. But the last couple of weeks have been a blur. What a beautiful blur. The emptiness still resounds in the void.
At first there were tears, puddles of tears. Then there was this inexplicable twinge in my heart that occurs only when I hear her name in my head. Which was like, every passing nanosecond of my existence. Then after a while, I couldn’t write anymore. I also stopped reading because it felt like I was just going to waste my time – I mean, I probably (I assumed) wouldn’t understand most of what I am looking at, probably wouldn’t be able to decipher the meaning of what I am reading so I ceased doing it for a moment. I couldn’t write. And it was excruciating. The thought alone of being paralyzed, of not being able to do what I have always loved, it was a kind of hell. It was worse than the misery or torment I had to go through days before that.
I realized I was…apathetic. No actually, worse. I wasn’t just indifferent to what’s going on around me. I was anaesthetized. I wasn’t feeling anything anymore. For days and weeks I mourned. I had this unbelievable overcast above me, lurking in the shadows wherever I go. Then I found myself in the center of the storm – and this time, without any regard for the chaos that is my life.
Then I had an epiphany. I just couldn’t let myself drown anymore. I just couldn’t allow this darkness to swallow me, chew what’s left of me then spit me out - and not care if the same darkness does the same twisted thing to my spirit the next day.
For the longest time, I believed this obscurity: that I define a lot of who I am based on my relationships. I neglected and left out the most important part: it does not mean that my relationships dictate who I am.
Yes, I am fallible. I do not wish to be perfect. This is the closest that I have ever felt to being human – feeling pain, eating, drinking, consuming pain day in and day out. I am frail but I should not deny myself the truth that there lies in my spirit a light that just won’t give up. And in that light I will find my strength. And in finding my strength I would understand that some things are meant to happen – and they happen because they are meant to make me believe in all that I had in the first place - myself.
There still are some parts of me that bleed. Some parts of me that ache, some parts that were scalded when I attempted to catch the fire of this battle. But my soul is housed by my inescapable self – the self that I need to look after, I need to love, I need to have faith in.
In my silence I am no longer haunted by the dreams that never will come true. In my silence I exalt Him for loving me so much to let me realize I have not met the end.
I just need to take the time.
For now I am happy pondering...one universe at a time.
Now I am back. And it hurts to talk why I was gone in the first place.
Each time I feel like I am flailing I turn to writing – because writing allows me to have control over things I, under usual circumstances, would mess or wreck. But the last couple of weeks have been a blur. What a beautiful blur. The emptiness still resounds in the void.
At first there were tears, puddles of tears. Then there was this inexplicable twinge in my heart that occurs only when I hear her name in my head. Which was like, every passing nanosecond of my existence. Then after a while, I couldn’t write anymore. I also stopped reading because it felt like I was just going to waste my time – I mean, I probably (I assumed) wouldn’t understand most of what I am looking at, probably wouldn’t be able to decipher the meaning of what I am reading so I ceased doing it for a moment. I couldn’t write. And it was excruciating. The thought alone of being paralyzed, of not being able to do what I have always loved, it was a kind of hell. It was worse than the misery or torment I had to go through days before that.
I realized I was…apathetic. No actually, worse. I wasn’t just indifferent to what’s going on around me. I was anaesthetized. I wasn’t feeling anything anymore. For days and weeks I mourned. I had this unbelievable overcast above me, lurking in the shadows wherever I go. Then I found myself in the center of the storm – and this time, without any regard for the chaos that is my life.
Then I had an epiphany. I just couldn’t let myself drown anymore. I just couldn’t allow this darkness to swallow me, chew what’s left of me then spit me out - and not care if the same darkness does the same twisted thing to my spirit the next day.
For the longest time, I believed this obscurity: that I define a lot of who I am based on my relationships. I neglected and left out the most important part: it does not mean that my relationships dictate who I am.
Yes, I am fallible. I do not wish to be perfect. This is the closest that I have ever felt to being human – feeling pain, eating, drinking, consuming pain day in and day out. I am frail but I should not deny myself the truth that there lies in my spirit a light that just won’t give up. And in that light I will find my strength. And in finding my strength I would understand that some things are meant to happen – and they happen because they are meant to make me believe in all that I had in the first place - myself.
There still are some parts of me that bleed. Some parts of me that ache, some parts that were scalded when I attempted to catch the fire of this battle. But my soul is housed by my inescapable self – the self that I need to look after, I need to love, I need to have faith in.
In my silence I am no longer haunted by the dreams that never will come true. In my silence I exalt Him for loving me so much to let me realize I have not met the end.
I just need to take the time.
For now I am happy pondering...one universe at a time.
0 comments:
Post a Comment