#whispered-rambling — Public Fediverse posts

the love of my life | whispered ramblings

I know it’s been a while, but… Will you come lay your head on the pillow next to mine and listen to my ramblings for four minutes?

There’s a strange feeling that has been crawling up my spine the past few weeks. The realisation that I have finally reached a point where I no longer feel this desire to return to a previous version of myself.

In the past, anytime that I’d go through a storm and was stranded somewhere unsafe, I would look back at pictures of me with this deep longing and agony.

I miss her. I wish I was still there. I can’t wait to have her back. I can’t wait to be her again.

I would stare out of my eyes like dusty attic windows and caress the reflection of a past that burnt down not that long ago. I would trace her silhouette and write faded poems in rememberance as the ashes rose and obscured my vision.

While I could always recognise that there was something wrong in her eyes, I would still believe that she was stronger and happier than I could be in the moment.

There was comfort in knowing that I was her once before & that I had the power to shed the misery and new-found darkness to become her, again. She was always the most divine and beautiful version of me–I had to get her back.

I made it my purpose to chase after a ghost and revive someone that had no business existing anymore. I know that what’s dead must remain so and, even if it happens to return, it never rises in the same shape nor with the same memories/light.

I think that once I understood how I was put on a pedestal and pretty much stripped of my humanity in my last relationship, it unlocked something in me.

I realised that I was doing the same thing to myself and how unfair that was. I only saw the bright light, the fire performing on a stage, the stunted potential, the unfinished business.

I forgot that there was more to me than what I can do & produce and how useful & inspiring I can be to others. It feels silly to write it out, but for so long, that was all I could see.

That’s why it was so easy to believe the tales I was sold about my fire being gone and how I probably would never do anything significant with my life now.

I almost believed.

Now, when I look back, I see a real person, not this mirage of a goddess.

I am grateful for all these versions of me that fought so hard through countless of trials to get me to where I am today. I can see their beauty and their strength. I feel inspired by their tenacity and foolishness.

I am touched by the love and faith they showed me before they even knew if a day would ever come where I could be here, right now. The stubbornness, the conviction and boundless hope…

Sure, I miss my flawless skin and maybe even my wine-stained lips. I miss the bliss of not knowing the truth and believing that I had all this light & love in my life. I miss it but I don’t want it back anymore.

I carry so many stories inside the scars that adorn my skin. I can firmly stand where I am now and my hands are not reaching back, nor forward.

I am discovering that I am strong and resilient in so many new ways or at least ways I had never realised before.

I thought I knew everything, that I had already seen the extent of my power and I could just blindly trust it would keep getting me where I want to go. But there is even more to me somehow, like all this fire slithered in through the cracks while I was busy mourning myself.

It is terrifying but thrilling to realise that I am the unknown now.

I never doubted that this stubborn soul would always find a way to burn, even running on fumes. And now I see that it can probably take me even further & sink its roots even deeper into the nest that I am slowly building.

I don’t need to know who I am. I don’t want to be who I was, or who I thought I should be by now.

I’m not ashamed of what I’m not
[…]
I won’t let nothing weigh me down
I know that I could climb higher and higher
But I’m rich right here right now

https://youtu.be/5EEWbDDIrhA?si=z9rAD-VgOUuIWdo3

Goodnight ♥