I guess it never gets easier. I guess life is about leaping from one ache to another. It’s about fragility and strength. Bending for both. It’s about breaking. Breaking patterns and breaking hearts and breaking down. And sometimes it feels impossible to do anything but. Sometimes strength feels like such a foreign concept. A distant memory or idea that you can’t find because you don’t remember what it looks like, you don’t remember what it feels like. Clarity becomes a blurry sensation. Wishing for eagle eyes but feeling blind as a bat. How to focus when optics don’t feel optimal? When life feels cruel, when hearts bleed? How to feel vulnerable and bare without committing soul suicide? How do we break down walls and lean on each other? Where do we put the damage? Hide the damage? Clean up the damage and then let go of it? We can never really separate ourselves from our experiences but how can we not let them destroy us? When we are raw, how do we thaw those frozen parts of us? Those cold parts of us? Are there ever really answers? Probably not. But I keep asking them nevertheless. Hoping that through the questions I’ll find that foreign concept of strength hidden between the lines, lodged in between words, and maybe through the pain, I might find a moment of clarity. Even if it’s just a moment.
