I’ve thought about it a little.. but the answer eludes me, caught in this fog that slips through my fingers when I try to grab it. I search, to see myself through your eyes. Am I amazing?
You came to me when I needed someone to say it. When my heart was going quiet inside. After you hear those belittling words long enough you almost believe in them. They seep into your soul, between doubt, disbelief and denial; into crevices that you didn’t know existed but ran deep; deep enough to gently erode who you believed you were and what you deserved in life.
I just needed one person, anyone… to hold me close, to breathe in who I was and say the most honest, truest thing they knew about me. You are amazing, you are beautiful, you don’t cease to amaze me, I’m never going to let you go …. I am worth keeping, aren’t I?
I suddenly had something to hold onto in my crumbling mind.
I am soaring. Just a little over the horizon, not too far away from the rooftops. I don’t want to forget the sky. Stay. Lift me up, hold me gently there so I don’t crash land again. I want to soak in this moment. To remember it when my heads inside a thunderstorm, times I’ve been tempted to slip under and just let go.
I’m still here.
I’m waiting for life to walk in and point at me. She’s mine, that amazing, angry, annoying, broken soul who still knows how to fly, she’s mine.
You wake up, look into someone’s eyes and they hug the life out of you. I never want to let that feeling go. You feel someone’s heartbeat, how easy they make it to just be you. The glorious, unedited, flawsome you. Unapologetic and true. Someone who under the cover of darkness drops all pretense and let you be the raw and ugly core inside that shell. I’m not giving up yet. And I’m not compromising. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love shouldn’t be one of them.
She makes me smile. That wicked witch, love. Like an old friend she wanders into my life every other decade. We kiss and wonder why we didn’t do that 15 years ago. We share a drink, figure life hasn’t turned out all that badly and I look at the options. If you have no stories when you sit down with your oldest friend, pity is all the same.
I want to be the girl with my stories, ones that my friends haggle to be in. Oh yeah, I was there when she did this. Will I be the one they talk about when they bring up their bucket lists? When twilight runs into inky stars, I’d like to be the refrain that slips out of their bygone sighs. Conformity, that old dame will wheeze and snort…we were brutal but it was her. Damn ….. she lived.
Time’s up, we shake on it, to meet a little more wrinkled, for another drink to swap the chapters I promise to write next. When the wind tumbles through my grey hair ruffling memories, I hope life would have been wrung from every drop. I pray I would have spent more time being foolish and brave. Doing more shit I dreamed of and sighing less.
Courage, dear heart. There’s fun in doing stuff folks don’t expect you to do. And jump. Always choose to jump. Ledges weren’t made to be sat on.
The Itchy Pen.
#life #staystrong #positive #happy #goforit #livebig #beyourself #DepressionIsntYou #Believe #Loveyourself