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let it be the first step to my healing when i allow myself to believe that i don't want to spend my future days with my eyes bloodshot and my lips set in a grim line.
that the last place i want myself to be standing at is the end of an unrecognizable road.
the second being all the reminders that seem little, but aren't;
to never make myself excessively familiar with the feeling of longing. to not whelve in my own secrets. to not hold on when i need to let go. to always treat the memory lane as part of my imagination instead of letting it solidify its image and take over all of mine that is real. to not let cruelty make me cruel. to treat myself with tenderness and pat my own back instead of waiting, expecting someone else to. to never blankly stare at my own dreams like they were a dying fire. to stop confiding in people who don't exist.
to let myself live with never-ending reminders.
let the third, and the last step, be that i never let myself sit in an empty, orange room and think of before i got there, when the window to where my heart was, was wide open. and all i had to do was jump. but i didn't.
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*window, hole, breach, loophole, opening