If you’re lucky, you’ll have your heart broken. You’ll let your body slip from your memory because shock takes over and your bones are better off broken. You’ll see the sky disguised as faces and wonder when you stopped living for yourself. You’ll have to learn how to pause; how to breathe; how to close your eyes without separating two parts: dust and thought.
You will clutch to truth, as you always should have, but we all forget and you’ll have to make up with yourself over and over again. Someone will tell you that you don’t have to forgive a person in order to move on [and if they don’t, I’m telling you now]. You will recognize your Shame Shields resulting in learning you. Take a breath. Absorb that thought — you will learn you. How often do we remember that to change is to widen and what better treasure could we give ourselves?
Eventually you will learn the art of saying goodbye and not fading. Things and moments and people will become significant again. Cloudless, anew.
If you’re lucky, you’ll have your heart broken only to realize you are love and you are alive. It will be freeing, this idea that you are leaving yourself only to discover you are right where you are. And you will finally see yourself for all you are worth: everything.
