when in doubt, share what's on your heart

reflections on the power of telling the truth

written on 25/12/2024; published unedited

everything I write feels ephemeral

timeless

as if we’re going to a place that time forgot
as if we’re writing from a place where time never existed
as if we are one

I write for us
naivety or hubris

who would I be without my self-hatred?

lily pads

I remember revealing myself, and the way it felt like glass shards were cutting me from the inside out.

jagged, precise annihilation. the most exquisite pain.

I don’t love pain, but I love tenderness.

and I love transcendence.
and I love not being defined by shame.
and I love coming home to myself again.

I love the journey of coming home.

what if I could love the pain?

I’m thinking of you.

the tale of two brothers. it’s how I’ve christened you [both] in my mind.

so similar.
so different.
so close.
so far.

my heart breaks for you both in my own ways.

to the second brother, the softer brother, the striver brother
but in many ways, the brother that the first brother longs to be:

I love you.

I told you I loved you this morning. it was simple & easy.

I wish you could know one another the way I know you both individually.

to the second brother, the softer brother, the striver brother
but in many ways, the brother that all the other brothers long to be:

I admire you.

I admire your willingness to tell the truth to yourself even when it hurts or is uncomfortable. I admire your willingness to be ugly. I admire your willingness to be uncomfortable, and stay in or with discomfort instead of bypassing it (even if or though you don’t like it).

I admire your commitment to your family.

I admire your willingness to live with an open heart.
I admire the openness of your heart.
I admire your simple kindness.

I admire your adventurous spirit.
I admire your dedication to fun & lightness.

I enjoy your soul. and I’m proud of you. I really am.

you met me during a time in my life when my heart was utterly broken.
and still, I was not broken. I was not, am not, broken.
but I was hurting in ways I couldn’t articulate.

you were a beautiful bridge for me.
you helped me stay focused & put one foot in front of the other even though I was in so, so, so much pain.
you (or your presence) anchored me.

and you never realised.
or at least, I didn’t tell you.
I didn’t make it a focus.
it wasn’t the right thing to do; there was nothing to say.

and, here I am. here I am.

thank you for everything. I think you’re amazing.