J.H.

I thought growing up meant

Knowing where your feet would land next

I thought it meant

Uncertainty couldn’t cripple you to bed.

I thought decision-making was a given

And the pit in your stomach couldn’t deepen.

Growing up, I thought, would come

With a written manual in hand,

Where life just gave you purpose

And you felt like you’re enough.

And now,

I lose myself in search of passion,

I dim my brightness to appease,

I forget the interests that drove me

Perhaps, in a parallel universe; or in another lifetime if there is such a thing, we’ll find each other. If we do, my hope is that we both are free from the ghosts and echoes of our past. And if we are, I will love you just the same as I do now, until my bones are reduced to dust; in the silent pauses of my heartbeat, down to the very last of it.