I really miss people.
I really miss people.
they asked me to tell my story, and so I did
they asked me to tell my story, and so I did
a story, something of substance, something of meaning, something *real*
alive and fizzing with
a life of its own, a life beyond my mind, a life beyond mine
alive and fizzing with
so much else.
the full stop just cements it.
And right now, I really miss people.
I feel heavy with grief.
And I want to be and share and be present with it.
I want to share and be present with it.
We are souls with bodies, not bodies with souls.
And it’s not so much that I miss all that I took for granted, but that I mourn all that I didn’t let myself take advantage of before.
I feel heavy with an understanding that comes only with deep reflection and self-compassion.
When I think of all the people that I know and have known, I come face to face with all the people that I am and have been. I see myself in them, and them in me. And I love them for it. And I love me for it. Gutteral, off-piste. Riddled with ‘errors’ (grammatical and otherwise). Imperfect and glowing.
I feel sad in a way that only I can soothe, in a way that feels almost existential. And I’m tired of my self-consciousness, my carefully crafted arguments, wanting (or needing) to be one step ahead. I see this world that I, we, have contrived, and I also see through it. I see what it is, protects, represents.
And I don’t hate it. And I don’t judge it. But I am not in awe of it in the way that (perhaps) I was. All that glitters is not gold, and actions speak so much louder than words. Yet words matter too.
Words matter too.
Hurt people hurt people, and we all hurt.
And we all have the capacity to hurt, too.
And until we face our hurt, we will hurt.
We will hurt ourselves, and we will hurt others.
And we will feel hurt, too.
And it is so easy to feel hard-done-by. To became jaded. To let yourself get wrapped up in old hurts and resentments.
Yet the scared inner-child asking, “where were you when I needed you most?” is also saying, “I dared to hope. “
And what a beautiful thing that is.
Sometimes, we need hope too. We need it to be able to soften and open, and sometimes just to survive. Sometimes, we need something beyond ourselves.
Yes, hope is not enough. And it’s a start.
There’s no need to kick a dog when it’s already down.
I really miss people, and I don’t know where I’m going with this.
And, as always, that doesn’t really matter.
I just needed to say it.
I just needed to say it.
It’s okay.
nobody asked me to tell this story, but i told it anyway
i gave myself permission to write
i gave myself permission to share
i gave myself permission to speak.
and, in doing so, i gave myself what i needed
i set myself free
it didn’t — it doesn’t — feel so heavy.
rest in peace.
#inthetrencheswithyou