I had this dream once in the middle of the night when I was a kid on my way downstairs to take a piss because toilet upstairs was not hooked sittin there for looks i guess when we had company cause they'd think better of us if we had a toilet at least in place even though it didn't work but then they wouldn't know that unless they asked and they never would because it would be important enough question to ask about somebody else's toilet...anyway I had this dream...a guy greeted me by tipping his hat when I went into the toilet and he tipped his hat to me again when I came out. I didn't think much about it until years later when I was going into a real important place and the same guy in real life tipped his hat to me the exact same way. My life change that very second. Thanks God.
It brought tears to my eyes, when he talked about the inspiring way that I see the future. He spoke of my hopes and dreams, and he told me that he was proud. Even with cuts deep in my skin, someone found me beautiful. He told me to open up my window, and see how the stars shined bright in the sky. By the time Earth's light reaches outer space and the stars' light reached us, many years will have already passed. He described that by the time the light in me could reach the outer most parts of this universe, my life would be completely different. I might be married, with little miracles pitter pattering through the house. By the time my light reaches outer space, so much will have changed and I will still be alive, fighting to have a smile on my face. Even though he was miles away, I felt him right next to me. He sang me a song that his mother always sang to him as child. It was a song he has sang over and over again through the phone, but tonight it hit even deeper than the cuts on my body. He showed me the kind of love that I have been searching for, the kind that doesn't forget even when it's been months of no contact. He called me his princess, when clearly I am nothing but a damsel. He made cry, not only all of my feelings out, but also all of the hurt inside of me. He cleaned me out with his careful words. He reminded me that I was beautifully stubborn, and that I have never been one to give up.
For weeks now, I have looked at her and saw more to her than ever before. I have never seen someone working so much, turning all the wheels inside of them. What is she building in there? Was it walls to lock me out, or was it a ladder to get out from the trap she felt I put her in? I may never have the answers, and I am starting to be okay with that. I finally read the letters I received on the day she chose to walk away. I started filling in the empty spaces in my head with the truth, no matter how much that truth hurt. The night I finally read them was the night I finally set a match to whatever she was building. I can see the burnt insides of what she had made inside of herself over the years. I see now that I am no longer to blame for how things end. She has been incapable of love for far too long. I was her practice field, and she is now playing with real people's hearts.
I was used to hurricanes coming and tearing my life apart, I was used to devastation, pain, distrust, doubts and fear, enormous fear. Being tore apart was something normal for me, my almost everyday. Always wishing for peace, always wishing for love, for a gentle wave to wet my shore with love and care, not bringing everything down, but on the contrary, helping to build a life. Now... a miracle happened and after the most devastating hurricane, but also the most empowering one, finally I have my gentle sweet wave... it's confusing at times... sometimes waiting for the strong currents to hit me like before. But this time I know this wave is gonna make roots grow in my land, it's gonna bring life and peace to my parched up shore. I'm letting it cleanse me with love and peace, with subtlety and patience. It's healing me from the inside out, like the sweetest balm of all. And let me tell you, the fear is not gone... but I'm learning to love, I'm learning to trust...
You have a sweet heart, coated in poison syrup, dripping through your fingers. You have a hot heart, steam fogs the windows of your phone booth. You have a bright heart. Nobody can see your smile. Enemies come and go. Lines grow and contract. Math holds our attention for a minute or two. But your heart ticks down. You have a consistent heart. Your heart is genre fiction. We can all read it and we all know how it is going to end. Your heart is love steroids. You amplify your sentimental reactions and hold a fragile hand over your chest. Your heart is magic marker, swiping impromptu lines and fond doodles on everyone you meet. Your heart is Christmas colored. Your family draws close to it to give gifts and strike affectionate poses.