Past Life

We are interesting creatures, us humans. We have varying degrees of depth, love, understanding, and pain. We have even more ways to handle these emotions. In every encounter, no matter how great or how small, we gain insight into the people around us but more importantly we, ourselves, become magnified. We can gain infinite knowledge to who we are when we walk away from someone or even when we are the one being walked away from. I choose to believe in the power of a moment, because in that second of realization, it is already gone. A moment becomes the past, immediately. I made a choice when I chose life. I decided I would never again waste one second on regret, on thinking I hadn’t given everything I could to something. Things as small as reading my brothers a bedtime story, or even as great as choosing whom to love, I approach each of these instances with the exact same passion. This fervor does not come without its own set of complications. I have seen that there are few who approach life this way. I think that the combination of recognizing inflicted scars, loathing life, losing someone; it is through these tumultuous experiences those of us who survive are granted a beauty reserved for very few. Yes, I have been hurt and will be undoubtedly hurt again, but I will heal just as I always have. By having the ability to believe in the power of an exchange, the power of an opportunity, I will always have something to look forward to.

Over what has been nearly a year of writing this blog I have disclosed some very personal thoughts, thoughts that at times were truly unbearable. I found myself in chasms where breathing was the only connection holding me to this world. I have allowed hurt to creep into my life in various forms, various relationships, I have felt broken. It is only now that I am beginning to see that the shades of what I consider to be one of my greatest strengths entirely misunderstood. In my constant faith in goodness I have come across as being fragile, breakable, even unstable. This idea of holding onto something and being comfortable with the unknown allows me to be cognizant of my present. This awareness lends me to feeling things very deeply. I understand that by witnessing undeniably deep feelings ranging from elation to profound sadness, some may see these emotions of mine and label them as weakness. For reasons I can understand it seems I project this need to be rescued. Oddly enough it is I who feels that does the rescuing. This is certainly an in depth analysis brought about by a very recent break up. Yet, there is such familiarity in the words that are spoken to me, echoes of others wanting to save me and protect me. What a silly thing to focus on when the once shared experience has been finalized. I wish others to stop looking at me and my supposed need to be saved and start looking at why there seems to be more devotion after the fact. Yes, I am hurting right now, but I am not consumed by sadness and certainly not regret. I am creating my past, day-by-day. I am building my life, something that is uniquely mine. I have loved hard, and I promise I will never stop loving hard. It is with a distinct sadness that I move forward knowing that others shut down on purpose, never to be reopened. What a futile way to build a past.

This post is dedicated to many, all of whom I love, and will continue to love until the moment my life is nothing more than my past.