Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
I don't want quick and easy.
I will wait for a love that moves mountains. One that I would go to the end of the world for.
A love that I would've gone to war for in earlier times.
Hold each other in silence and stillness. Ankor eachother down in hail storms. Dig eachother out of snowstorms.
A love that is fierce and passionate. But gentle and caring.
For you, I'll wait.
Until then, I will love myself.
It's October now. And I'm back in the city
I long for the cold early morning. With fog covering the forest. Drinking tea on the porch staring at the bright yellow birch trees.
Swimming, naked, in a swirling mist, in water that's warmer than the air.
Curling up in an armchair with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.
Watching the moon and the stars, wrapped in thick jackets.
Exploring museums in long skirts and shalls.
Smelling the rain, on a cold walk in the forest.
Next October...
Sometimes love isn't grand gestures or daily phone calls
Sometimes love is when my mother comes home from visiting family 7 hours away. Where I couldn't go. Because, because car ride are too much and I'm sick.
She comes home and tells me of my whole family crying about me when they were leaving. Wishing they could do something
Maybe love is when my cousin gifts me fabric and patterns because she knows I love sewing. Even if I can't right now.
Perhaps love is my aunt gifting me rolls of leather and upholstery fabric and 3 kilos of cherries for the same reason.
Love might be another cousin crying, wishing my mother to tell me she thinks about me every day but doesn't have the words.
These people, my blood, that never felt like family or close. That are so far away in the world and in life.
Perhaps life is in those small moments. And way more people care for you than you think. Even if you have no clue. And thought they'd abandoned you long ago.
Another good thing to come from this bummshit journey :)
People care, we are all just as awkward and lost for words. Give others the grace to be as awkward as you think yourself to be. They might surprise you
The only thing my brain seems capable of is rereading the series that dominated my childhood and largely shaped who I am. Mostly because I've read it like 20 times and I don't have to think, just remember.
~With scheduled breaks in a dark room to avoid sensory overload as prescribed
And I'm not mad about it. It's one of the lights right now, I have time to spend my days reading these books.
So many of my characteristics make sense
I have been ripped from the life I was building for myself once again. The dreams, the places I was getting to know, the people I was meeting, the future I was walking towards are gone.
My own body is fighting me. And my brain often times does not work. Without my brain, and ideas and dreams, who am I?
For my mother always described me as a Tsunami. Try to stop a Tsunami, is how she'd describe me when I'd had an idea. These days I feel like little more than a puddle.
These days are also the days that I unexpectedly get to spend months with my family. I get to go to my brother's graduation. I'm not halfway across the continent.
These days I get to enjoy my mother's cooking. I get to tell her more about out who I've become. And I find out about her.
These days my father, who has never been good with words, and who never actually wanted children, offers to pay for my motorcycle license once I feel better. If it helps, he says, I'll gladly pay for it.
These days, when my legs shake and I can suddenly barely walk, my dad will grab me. Hold me up. And pretend to dance with me through the living room.
These days I will be laughing so hard I cry. Instead of bawling my eyes out.
I do that too, sometimes. Because it's. Not. Fair.
But these days, and these moments would've never happened were I not sick.
It'll get better. And even if it doesn't, I can still make a happy life for myself