XXV

Part II.

At the macro level, life is a beautiful, and heady, and overwhelming thing, Yes, again, beautiful and heady and overwhelming. My sister is not happy with her life, I want to show her it can be all she want’s it to be and more. My brother is starting out on a new chapter, in love, and in the way he considers himself, and I am so so proud of him. My husband-to-be is the man of my dreams, and he is passionate about his work and nothing could make me happier. His days are a rollercoaster of deals done, deals falling through, negotiations, wins and losses, but the ultimate consensus is: ‘Yes, my life is meaningful’. My best friend lives in another city and though it’s an always-struggle and an often-aching-heart, she is doing things she could only dream of doing and I am beyond proud of her aweing resilience.

I am happy. For I have every reason to be. And today it is raining and my heart is breaking with the fullness of life, and the fullness of love, and the grandeur of these moments through which we live. Life is beautiful, and heady, and overwhelming, and we’re living it. All of us. 

(Images: Matt Wisniewski)

XXIV

Its raining. Hard. And I’m reminded that life is a beautiful, heady, overwhelming thing. So much feeling crammed into so few hours of every day. You wake up tired, or hungry, or hungover, or anxious, sometimes you wake up peacefully or with great anticipation. You stagger – we all stagger – into your daily routine. Breakfast, lunch, dinner; for the lucky amongst us they sign post our days and help to compartmentalize our thoughts. “If I could just submit this report by lunch,” “I’ll meet you at 6 o’clock for dinner,” “Its only been 2 hours since  breakfast!? I’m starved.” We love the moments that we love and every other moment falls into a category of fear, anxiety, regret, stress, pressure, embarrassment, anger, frustration, uncertainty, oh the list goes on. All of these in a day, sometimes, and a million more besides.

But that’s life at the micro level. That’s life lived small, moment-to-moment, taking stock of everything that go’s right, or go’s wrong, and tipping the scales of our minds with them to see where we end up.

I do not wish to live a small life.

(Image: Oracle Fox)

VIII

H E A R T   P T 3 .

There is love. But is it enough? To brighten the darkest dark… from a distance…  is it enough? To heal the deepest wound – bruise, cut, break, sore… without ever touching or seeing or knowing the full extent of injury. Is it enough? Love that doesn’t know what it is dealing with. Ignorant love. Love that loves anyway. Is it enough?

I’m telling you that it is. I have seen, felt, known. Tested and tried and I have found that it is.

But nothing of proof. Nothing concrete, nothing absolute.

There is nothing. But my words, and my love. 

II

I came from love. I was never alone.
Even in my darkest moments, you loved me.
Even in my solitary places, you found me.
I came from love. I was never alone.
When I tried to escape, you followed me. 
Pursued me. Wooed me. Wanted me back.
You forsook no measure to regain me. 
To win me. To win me back.
I came from love. And from it I could never distantly stray. 
You held me, and hold me still. 
Much too close for me to deny you, though I often pretend to.
I came from love, and I feel it burning inside me. 
Your love empowers me. Urges me. Urges me on. 
Even if I know not what you’ve done.
I came from love. Love that died for me. Died and set me free.
I came from love. I was never alone… (repeat)