rereading who i was. seeing who i was becoming. watching the old me wither away. the blossom dries and falls. the fruit grows. and ripens. to be picked. to be loved.
i forget sometimes. i forget how sad i was. to be honest. i still am. but i am better equipped to deal with it now. i know the tears will dry. i know the hurt will fade. and i'll be in his arms again.
i remember how young i was. how every slight against me was a decree of war. how every stray look while walking downtown was an assault to my vanity. at yet. i still am young. i still feel my hackles raise as my back hunches into a defensive position. i am ready to leap into a fight. to protect my heart. to protect my life.
was it all so long ago?
am i really much different?
no. and yes.
yes.
and no.
i think we're all an ocean. we are calm. we are rough. we are white tipped with angry froth. we are silken smooth in midnight light. we are pulled by a tide. we flow in and we flow out.
we soften the edges of the jagged cliffs of life.
our course is ever the same.
our purpose held beneath the surface.
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