It is October 3rd of 2021. 7:09pm. And oddly as the sun casts it's wonders upon my wall I find my head swarming with nostalgia and words. Anhelar. A yearning. Hablar. Cantar. Tocar. To speak, sing, and touch.
Only God would be able to hear such anhelos. And those that bother to read these innocent words.
I wish to know who I am. Since unfortunately as I have learned, who I once was bears just a wisp of my present being. A continuous changing being. No one prepared me for that knowledge. Nor that others are the same. And whether they stay or go is not our responsibility, despite how much we try.
No one prepared me for the silence that comes with sitting. Nor that silence is needed to understand the deeper parts of yourself that you hid a long time ago. The parts that you didn't think mattered until you realized they were controlling parts of you that you needed in order to love properly.
No one prepared me for the good-byes. The ones that were spoken. The ones that went unsaid. The ones that you didn't want to happen. And the ones that happened without your permission.
No one prepared me to be just me. To learn about my interests and pursue them. To face my demons and win. To exist as a whole person next to other whole people. To fix my views and care for others at the expense of my pride.
I had many people in my life growing up. But somewhere along the line, I feel as if I've missed those very important lessons. And now I have no one...but me. No teacher but perhaps the Lord Almighty. Just loads of empty pages and my pencil are my only tools.
Oddly enough, I'm okay with it. Part of me would have it no other way. The other just wants an Obi-Wan to show up and declare truths I myself never acknowledged.
It's a weird place. I don't know if I would suggest it to others. Or want it for my children.
I feel as if life is just now beginning. As if I had been living behind a fogged-up window for so long...and now, things have never been so clear. So clear and vast and wide. My life just one long horizon line, bursting into new colors my eyes have yet to see. I am dawning. Rising to my true being.
I am living an epiphany--one that slowly erupted. Like a gentle snowfall. And now, I am overwhelmed by the sensation.
Thank you God.
YOU ARE READING
Unwritten Words
Non-FictionSometimes there's too many things to say. Sometimes there's not enough time. Sometimes using a pen can be easier than using my voice. So here are some words. For you. For those I knew. For those that carry me forward. And most importantly, for me.
