The void left behind.
I guess I felt really uninspired... I wanted to write honestly. Wanted to say what I am actually feeling. All the fears I am breathing at the moment. But I just couldn't. If I would have, I would have had to feel the void.
The void of someone missing that I used to hold the place for such a long time. I feel like tapping into a world of independence where the free space between me and other people makes me feel incredibly insecure.
I always hoped for it to give me a sense of liberty and confidence, but truth is that I am scared.
I am scared to leave the hole in my heart be a hole and slowly let it be filled something more sustainable than someone else’s attention. I have no idea what it even means to be myself and feel like Judas when it comes to being faithful to what I really want and desire.
I am afraid of the person I am without anyone else. And sure, I could easily replace people with people and maybe find a sense of love in someone else that likes me enough to make myself forget the pain I feel from the loss of someone who was a representation of hope and dreams to me.
I usually believe in faint but right now I am struggling with it’s opposition.
Life is spinning out of control and going places I didn't intend for it to go.
And even though I am scared to lose sight of the shore of certainty,
I know that can not return to the haven of in-between either.
It is time to let go of the fear of the unknown
and believe that I will find myself somewhere amidst the tides.
But the only thing I gained so far is the realization
that your face is not carrying the hope of my future.
I need to have faith for myself.
And here I am standing.
Hands open,
ropes slipping through my fingers while I am doubting
if the decisions I made for myself will actually bring me the peace I desire.
It is getting less. The times you cross my mind and enchant my daydreams.
I don't want to have to miss you to feel myself again.
Because even though you were part of a dream I was hoping for,
you would have never been able to take on the task of perfecting the art of faith in my heart.
You were a symptom not a source
and I kept trying to make visions speak more than I wanted to come home.
You said, I would have been perfect too.
It broke my heart reading it fully knowing
that we reached the end of almost.
And here I am standing.
Hands open, ropes slipping through my fingers while I am doubting
if the decisions I made for myself will actually bring me the peace I desire.
Home lost its shape.
It moved across the ocean
calling me into the unknown.
I am not who I limited myself to believe to be.
I am made out of fire.
I can fall without burning.
