May
It tends to be quieter these days. I can sense some type of evolution in the air, the changing of seasons, but not all eyes can capture that… It’s so subtle, so real, so frightening. Like the tension I feel when I enter the room and I can feel all eyes around me, it raises even the hair on the back of my neck. The hateful gazes, the condescending looks, and the great war that I am in to not be crumbled under all of it. Like when I was wandering around in the meadow at 2 AM and how the only light illuminating was the LORD’s, and how I was trying to catch my breath under it. Like returning to the LORD, no matter what has happened, what I have gone through, all the just, and unjust. And the reality is terrifying – which is a fact I hadn’t talked about enough. It is like drowning in your own flesh. Like a battle of acceptance versus the feeling of defeat – how, if I catch myself succumbing to that feeling, I will lose it all. How I must gather myself, be the best, the strongest and the highest version of myself. To not give the ill-intentioned anything to talk about, to keep my companions happy and proud of me, and not worry about any of them, and better yet, disappoint them. It tends to be quieter these days, because of all the noise and the buzz and most importantly turbulence is inside of me. It’s the battle of me blossoming, and I have been making great progress on this path, and I am battling to not drown under that hurricane. The reconstruction of events starts the moment I open my eyes in the morning, when the sun hits my face. I replay them throughout the day, the second I am by myself, to find a new angle, even though everything is in the clear, and every question is answered, and it is objectively me in the right. I try to empathize. I try to be compassionate.

I am, really, trying. And I know I will be getting the results. I know, I know it all, I am aware of it all, yet I cannot kill it. I am aware of how these days will pass, the idea of brighter days being ahead. To advance and carry on… That seems like the most difficult thing in the whole wide world.

June
Over the last six months, the trajectory of my life has shifted dramatically. I went through the old pages of my journal, and I cannot connect with the text, not at all. In a way it seems like reptile shedding skin. Funny enough, I wrote about how comfortable I feel in that position, that time of my life. And I cannot deny it. It was easier, slower, and more stable - but it wasn’t mine. And I cannot, for the life of me, go on saying I was okay with that. That’s the thing though, I didn’t know it could all fade away oh-so-easily. I didn’t know that, at any moment now, life would pull the rug out from under me. Any lingering peace would soon fade away. The nights would be filled with confusion and I would bear witness to the total deconstruction of my safety net, unexpectedly removed, and I would stay there, unable to move.

I didn’t know… how I would have to re-learn every tool I once taught myself, listen to other people’s advices again, as if I had not once been the one in holding their hand throughout the dark. A total humiliation ritual… because it wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.

And when it all collapsed, I was under the shadow waiting for my turn, sobbing under the eyes of the LORD.
Asking for a sign. Trying to make sense of it all.

Hold my hand firmly. Look deeper. My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

@807
I wanted to call you and wish you a happy birthday.
I wouldn’t say that it wasn’t on my mind.
Far from it, you have been orbiting around my mind a lot these days. It might be nostalgia-bait, or it might be the city. Especially when I was in the Square yesterday, after I arrived a couple of days ago, as my first big outing of the summer, funnily enough, another birthday celebration. I associate that part of the city a lot with you. The messy crowd, young and exciting streets, the ambiance haunting around. I thought about you on my third cocktail. I was so, so close to calling in my fifth. I thought it was funny how I would hesitate, even when I was so drunk that it was borderline perverted. But all it took was for me to be sober, on a Saturday morning when I woke up from a dream where you would smile at me on a beach. You were beautiful. I was jealous.

I missed you so much, darling. I am glad you didn’t think I was weird for texting you months later. Because we are having so much fun – it’s uncanny. And I am swallowing my pride when I utter these words. I will try to do better this time. The fear of losing you fucked up my thinking, so instead I am embracing that everything is but a fleeting moment. Needless to say, if you were to disappear tomorrow, I would still be glad. Glad that I met you… And for all memories. Yet... I have no idea what the future upholds. I guess, such is life.

July
I feel the gift within, like a couple days ago when I found crescent moon-shaped sunburn on my thighs. I wore wired headphones as the tides were turning, my eyes closed, and for a second, I was no more. As the water splashed onto my face I felt as if all of me washed away into the ocean and there, I was, a shell, sunkissed. And I opened my eyes into the clear skies, the sound of laughter, joy radiating near me, in an environment where I felt like I belonged.

As per July’s blessings, we cleared up the storm. Now I know the answer, looking so clear. Now I know the outcome would not change yet I would gladly do it all over again. We promise to open a new page now, not a restart, but a new place, away from that dream, more grounded, maybe even more beautiful, more honest, and ultimately healthier.

It’s an adjustment, a big one, but I have the gift, and I know that this loneliness is only temporary – one that keeps me grounded, reminding me that I will always belong.

@063
The light creeps in through my bedroom as my body feels restless. A glimpse of sunshine warns me that it’s way past 2 AM and persevering at this dark hour will do me no good. The heat got to me too – rendering me useless day and night. Treasuring what I have right now feels weirdly difficult because it just reminds me of the best thing I never had. Such is life, I keep saying, as the wound’s taking awful long to heal.
The soft-spoken morning call to prayer echoing through the neighborhood almost makes my room brighter. This way, the room feels even more crowded. I feel my eyes growing heavier, as my body finally gives in to a good night’s sleep.
I see an almost version of him this time in my dream, beyond the façade. Yes, it isn’t real, but it is enough.

Your whisper echoes through.
“This isn’t the story you are looking for.”