piece by piece we
this time we fight
not for anything
or anyone else
but for our damn selves.
– the aftermath // life after death
Coffee, hope, poetry. I don’t know if I’d read it somewhere, but these three words keep ringing wistfully in my head lately. Perhaps it is because they are representative of the things that tug at my heart the most in this life. Oh would we all be so lucky to have our days filled with drawn out coffee conversations, quiet hope and beautiful poetry that makes sense of it all. What else could one ask for. Perhaps it is the simplest things that mean the most after all.
What do I say to you girls — you beautiful girls? You girls who are having the Bad Year — the Bad Year where you cannot remember why you were happy aged 12, and cannot imagine being happy at 21? … That panic and anxiety will lie to you — they are gonzo, malign commentators on the events of your life. Their counsel is wrong. You are as high, wired and badly advised by adrenaline as you would be by cocaine. Panic and anxiety are mad, drugged fools. Do not listen to their grinding-toothed, sweaty bullshit … And the most important thing? To know that you were not born like this. You were not born scared and self-loathing and overwhelmed. Things have been done — which means things can be undone. It is hard work. But you are not scared of hard work, compared with everything else you have dealt with.
– Caitlin Moran
I’m no longer the same person I used to be. The things that used to tug at my heart with desire seem so meaningless to me now. I no longer dream the same dreams. I want different things now. Value different things. Crave different things.
Is this the hardness of my heart speaking? Or have I just grown up?
Some nights I wonder if I made bed in the right city. There was once a call I heard. I was so sure of it. In the depths of His presence I saw as clear as day. But it was too big, too impossible. Me? I thought. Who am I? I’m nobody. It can’t be. So I asked for a sign. I asked to be shown. I asked to see what I already knew. How I needed it because I was so afraid. I didn’t believe it could be for me.
I waited and waited. For so long, I waited. But nothing ever happened, so one day I stopped waiting.
Did I miss out? I don’t know. But all this time, I just did the best I knew how to. I’ve always done my best. And in the waiting, I lived my life. I’ve made many mistakes along the way, more than I dare to confess. But I’ve also built good things. Wonderful things. Are they God-things? Maybe. Maybe not. He’s been with me all the way though, this I know. And most days that’s been enough to keep me going.
Still, I ponder on all the things that could have turned out differently, had I not asked to be met halfway. Had I not waited. Had I been less afraid. Had I just jumped. Am I a fool? Maybe. Am I too far gone? Did I miss out? I don’t know. Am I lost? Yes most days I still do feel lost. As if I’m running in circles but coming up short every time. The saddest part is that I once saw it all so clearly. But now it just feels like a distant reality. I feel so far from all He once sung over me. Now I’m not sure if there is even a place for me to go back to anymore.
I asked to be led – but here I am today.
I try not to ask too many questions anymore because having them unanswered is just too confusing. Everyday I just put one foot in front of the other and hope for the best. What else can I do? I don’t know what else to do.
Please don’t leave me behind.
The days crawl by so slow but one day you wake up and it’s June already. Time oh time, where did you go from me? I fear reaching the end of this year and realizing nothing’s changed at all. I’m tired of running around in circles and coming up short every time.
Please, there must be more than this.