I won’t deny it, I didn’t think I had it in me to move ahead, to ever be so okay with myself that the memories from that period of my life become nothing but a faint, familiar tingling sensation in the back of my neck. I won’t lie to you, no one thought I’d be able to, too.
I don’t know what happened, but I think I found myself in the process of trying to be okay with losing everything I ever stood for. All the pillars on which my entire being is built, shattered all around me. And likewise, my heart crumbled into tiny little pieces and disintegrated in my bloodstream. For a brief time period there I think I lost my heart, and somehow couldn’t locate my soul. I don’t know if it’s scary, because the base of fear is your heart, and I don’t think I had that anymore.
Bear with me, this is a happy story. It doesn’t really end in flowers and sunsets, but in a wild forest fire which charred my entire life down until nothing remained, but ash and an unscathed, but empowered, me.
I think somewhere down the line I just accepted how things were. I can’t romanticize what in fact was a painful and self-realization filled journey towards a new life. I did not wake up one day and believe in a greater dream, but instead I slowly and steadily undid the strings that were suffocating me and revealed someone I hardly recognized, but fell in love with instantly. I slowly pried open my body, vein by vein, and excruciatingly pried out the shrapnel of the explosion that were somehow stuck to my skin like a drunken tattoo, the morning after.
This is probably the first time I allowed myself to write about it, just because I feared that if I let myself wander in these thoughts again, I’ll snap back into that zone and get sucked into that warp that I had lost so much to escape from in the first place. But I’m strong enough now, and I am nowhere near snapping back.
So listen up: if I can rise from the ashes and renew myself, so can you.