3/7

I have had my boundaries crossed, and I’ve had my pain cross others’. I’ve had people blame me, before later, speaking the bittersweet words of apologies and asking for forgiveness. I’ve had people betray me, however mostly did I betray myself. I’ve had my work and ideas stolen by those I considered friends, and knowledge given to me by complete strangers. I’ve had people dislike me, some with reason, and some blended by their own darkness and insecurities. I’ve had people trying to own me and I’ve had my own emptiness trying to control what’s not mine. I’ve had the joy of observing love grow within others as well as falling in love with the fairytale of life myself. Falling in love with sheets that have turned into sand, hair tasting like salt, coconut smelling skin, knees scraped from coral and moments of desire and fantasy, lust and illusion. Or with the simplicity of home, and the endless summer nights only the northern hemisphere provides. I’ve had people tell me how my eyes become even more blue when I cry, and that eyes without tears never see rainbows. I’ve had soulful talks beneath a blanket of stars before collapsing into bed, with dirty feet and a happy heart. I’ve had times where I sacrificed my truth and shifted my beliefs to align with those I was surrounded by. I’ve had strangers become friends, and friends become strangers. I’ve had brief, but meaningful, encounters and long-lasting relationships. I’ve had surface level conversations with people terrified of depth, and philosophical ones with those who identify with the beauty, dreams and brokenness of this world. I’ve had people assume that everything is fine, perfect even, those blind to the weight I carry on my shoulders. And then there’s those, who, because of their awareness of their own rain, notice the storms in others too. Those who see through the ‘I’m fine’s’ we’re all guilty of throwing out; statements without any substance or truth. Those who are able to hold space for another because they have first learned how to hold space for themselves. Those who knows that not all wounds are visible. Those who cries in shavasana and whose hugs last for an eternity.