This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
on your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.
And I will not be afraid
of your scars.
I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.
I feel like all of the important life lessons I was told I would eventually learn when I was younger keep on creeping back into the forefront of my life trying to testify - continually trying to plea their case.
“It’ll be a long time before you know yourself”
“There is no such thing as true love”
“The moment you think you got it - you don’t”
I find it harder and harder to stay naive. Year after year, I become less of a fool. Less of an idiot. And in return, I have become less of a dreamer.
I have become bombarded with the reality of my own flaws, hypocrisies, insecurities and ultimately - my own mortality.
You know what I mean?
Well maybe you don’t know exactly but I think to some extent, everyone experiences these sort of revelations during the start of true adulthood.
As children we are taught to reach for our dreams, do the impossible, let our imaginations run wild. We are URGED to do this. Imagination is practically shoved down our throats all throughout adolescence. We are sat down in front of television screens with talking animals and scenes of grown men and women breaking out into freaking song and dance. We are constantly reminded in every bedtime story that if we do not give up, that we keep persisting, that if we keep dreaming - we will eventually make them come true.
You are shaken out of the bed. You are forced to wake up by the very people that told you to stay asleep. You pull the blanket over your head and lament:
“Just a few minutes longer”
Here comes the bucket of water.
Here comes Reality.
In reality we are not our dreams. We are not our ambitions.
We are what we say and do. We are our flaws. We are our experiences. We are our life. We are our death.
We trade our dreams for paychecks. And our paychecks for our necessities.
In reality, there is no love - there is loving.
You learn that love is an action. You learn that love is hard. You learn that love can suck. You learn that the yearning in your chest to love and be loved, doesn’t comes too naturally for human beings. You learn that you are a flawed lover who wants flawed things. You learn that you say it too easily. You learn that you thought you knew what it meant, until life’s red marker like your teacher’s pen on your senior year English final underlines the word and notes “wrong context”.
You get a C+.
Really though, love in the sense of “falling in love” is only one small part of our life. I find it so incredibly funny how we look at finding that person, or finding love as the climax of our lives. Ultimately, we spend our lives looking for our climaxes, our pinnacles - to feel something. To BE something. And in turn: Year by year, bit by bit - you learn how much you forget, how much you neglect. The world keeps spinning, whilst you, like a painter, stay unrelentingly focused on the masterpiece of yourself that will never quite be finished.
You live and you grow.
You get to know that person living in your head. You fight with him daily. You laugh at him, and with him. He will frustrate you till your wits end. And eventually - hopefully - you learn to like that person. Because you learn that you have to. Because you learn that
likingloving yourself, is the healthiest thing for you and the people that you love.
I heard some guy say once that we start to get the most out of life when we begin to look at ourselves as more of a supporting role rather than the main character.
I think he’s on to something.
And so you learn, and learn and learn and learn. Until you learn that, well…You still have a lot to learn.
Criticize in moderation
And dream out loud
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