two hands to heaven.

Baby, I’ve been waiting my whole life…
(I’m gonna give you the best years of your life…)
…for you and I…

Past haunts are my shadows. It’s hard to break away from what’s tethered to you. Those thoughts, decisions, choices, fears, lessons learned. I got the scabs on me, sometimes I feel like I’ll never heal from what pains me. Got so used to looking back instead of forward. No such thing as dreams in survival mode. But for a brief moment last week, I saw what life could be like if I didn’t care to live by fear – or by the fears of others. If I chose to just “be”, if my presence was simply enough. If other people’s thoughts and opinions of me were akin to the dirt under my feet: nothing, nothingness. Maybe once was something but who even knows and who even cares to find out. 

I often feel as if I’m this book of secrets that no one would find joy to open. I carry a lot of pain. Pain that sometimes makes it too hard to move forward. You can’t limber with the weight of your choices sitting firmly on your shoulders. I press my fingers into the divots those burdens leave and wonder if the people around me will ever not notice the sway in my walk from carrying too much. What’s unhealed has hurt others. Even worse than myself. 

I think back to who I was only a decade ago and I do not like her. She reminds me of someone who had no idea who she was. To pretend meant to survive; do just enough to be seen as acceptable so no one abandons you. Wild that the most freedom I’ve ever felt came at a cost. I don’t know if I’ll ever find my people. 

Finding myself was worth more than any tribe, any community, any affiliation. Yet, I feel the loneliness. I feel the lack. All the relationships that matter ain’t in arms reach. The wilderness is like a ghost. That isolation haunts me every Saturday night with no place to go. 

I’ve always been many things. I call myself  ‘a sign and a wonder’. You don’t know it’s possible until you see it to be true. You don’t know I’m possible until you experience me. I lost that girl along the way. She hid under the desire to just make it another day. She didn’t dream about tomorrow. What’s a ‘next day’ to someone who – at times – didn’t want to wake up to see it? 

I want to see a future with me in it. What could it be like when I find a love so powerful that all the shame of my past finds itself exorcised and rid of? Days when creativity sustains me. Sunlight isn’t a premium and laughter doesn’t get put on layaway. Me with a man so gentle and sweet that it gives me a toothache. The freedom of expression doesn’t cost me a damn thing. 

I’m ready to give myself a fighting chance at life.