Theadelewa: C'est la vie

With a soft smile.

Que sera sera

I met with my younger self.

She smiled a little, this time. Stepped out of her shell and let me in. I saw the darkness surrounding her crib and the scars on the side of her thumb. I urged her to sit and talk. Instead, she sat silently with thoughts swimming over her head.

My heart ached from the loneliness, pain, fear, grief and heaviness I felt from her.

Might her mouth be too heavy to deal with all she was forced to feel?

After a while of sitting in total silence, she smiled at me, and all I could see was pride with a hint of fear. "How are we doing?" she asked.

Sigh. "We are breathing, showing up and keeping it moving."

Joy

Life, passing us by in a quiet but mean way.

"What brings you joy?"

My therapist asked a couple of days ago.

So, it did hit me on a random September evening how the joy in life has to be intentional. We spend years chasing and achieving, and, in a way, after hitting a major milestone, all we feel is relief and gratitude, not joy.

We say, we are waiting to heal, to have enough, to be in a better place, to cross another milestone in order to get the ball rolling on immense joy.

But for how long?

In a bid to answer, it dawned on me. I am not broken, I am not healed, I am not lost, I am not where I want to be, I am not sad, but I am not happy either.

I wake up and show up, but deep down, it feels like I am only a spectator in my own life.

Is this what growing up is supposed to feel like?

And this is the hard truth.
If you wait until you feel better to start living, you might be waiting forever. Live. Do it sad. Do it anxious. Do it unsure. Do it unprepared. Because sometimes, it is the experience that heals you.

Ti Oluwa

This is Yah's baby.

Three months ago, the bus driver lost control of the bus and got so close to getting under a trailer.
Two months ago, a car brushed my palms as opposed to running into me while I crossed the expressway.
Two weeks ago, the vehicle I was in faced a trailer head-on. And we all went silent for a minute.
So, it hit me how life can change again in a second.

And this is only a fraction of what I can share.

Stormy Skies

Exhausted in every way.

I don't cry anymore.

I used to be able to express my feelings with tears because they reminded me that I still had the strength to feel.

Lately, I exhaust myself so much that I fall asleep as I get to my bed. I avoid the weight of silence, which reminds me of the echoes of emptiness in my laughter.

This is the quiet kind of numbness, the one that cannot be seen, heard or spoken about. It just sits in the room.

Have you ever needed to cry but were unable to?
It was all just heavy, so you just breathed and kept breathing.

In aeternum, te amo.

Anagapesis, where art thou?

Some people waltz into your life and leave a mark that even time cannot erase. No amount of distance, hurt, pain, or healing can soften the itch.

So, you simply leave them be in your heart. And quietly hope that one day, you wake up and the thought of them doesn’t make your chest ache this much.

The most painful part? They exist, but no longer for you.