I don't miss it. I don't miss what it meant for me. but I do miss some parts of what existed when my heart was fed by the parks and the mountains and the people who shared that.
Thursday, August 4, 2016
this city does things to me. it shapes a piece of my heart everytime I'm here. not a longing or a draw to be here forever. not a missing piece of me that can't be fulfilled. a memory that can't be shaken. a small twinge of happiness and fulfillment. the memories of things I can't relive. we never think it will ever be the last time. and yet, when I run this seawall, I am reminded of all the times before. the 'last times'. a reflection of the city, the wild, and how my heart is reflected in both those places.
Friday, July 1, 2016
sometimes I spend hours searching for his name on Google. trying to find my traces of his existence. photos I have yet to discover. quotes in articles he never told me about. stories of his full heart that were left like keepsakes for us to find. I comb through each of his Instagram photos, re-reading his jokes and looking at the world through his eyes. and then I look up, and I'm in the world again. and I remember words like 'suicide' and 'loss' and that I have to continue to exist in that world. and everything seems a bit numb after that.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
so this really interesting thing happened.i moved home. ended a relationship. moved back in with my parents. started a crazy (and wonderful) new job.... and all of a sudden it was a year later. most literally.
something brought me back here. some force in the universe knew i needed to be back where i could write. whether it was a spiritual force, or my own internal workings, knowing truly what is best.
either way, i'm here. and that's exactly where i need to be.
my manager recently told me that i need to learn to forgive myself. i need to learn to let myself feel, and i need to learn to let myself take a punch - not to brace for it, and then pretend it never happened... but instead to absorb the hit, cry a bit, nurse my wounds, and then get back up with a scar that reminds me how tough i am (he didn't tell me so elaborately - i took some liberties there).
so turns out scars are like little flags we get to wave once we conquer the battle. and each little mountain we come across, we can dig that flag into the ground, fight the good fight, and pick our flag up and move on.
but listen. those battles hurt. they get dirty, and people don't fight fair, and things happen when you least expect it. they leave you crying, and doubting, and shameful and hurt. and at the end of the day, you wince everytime someone says 'remember that everything happens for a reason'. because we all know. and we all know in the end 'it will be ok' without needing a reminder from an optimistic commentator. BUT (and here's the 'but' that i was told for years to replace with 'and') that doesn't make the hurt, or the anger, or the frustration, or the shame, or the complete and wretched sadness stop in that moment. it gives a glimmer of light on the other end of the bridge, but you still have to cross that bridge. you don't get to miraculously fly across it.
(excuse my overindulgence in allegorical language).
and now, we're here. we're all here, in this one day, together. we all took different paths to get here, and there were many monsters, and gems along the way. and i'll start from that.
Monday, March 23, 2015
(it sounds so delightfully glamourous, no?). this is currently the one thing getting me through the tail end of winter.
(tips and illustration by yumi sakugawa)
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