Sunday, March 18, 2012

Always meant to belong

“I’d want to believe I’m not under any spell, but...”

“You’re not.”

“So what is this paralysis about? Why can’t I make things different? Better?”

“Nobody can undo things.”

“But they can have things done. They’re resilient and they can switch to a new form, like they’re evolving.”

“Resilience does not always mean moving on. It could imply running away.”

“At least they can bear the weight of their heads. What’s with them, it’s like they’ve no memories of what happened and no afterthoughts?”

“And you call that evolving?”

“No, but…”

“Comparing never helps, you know. You see what they don’t, nothing’s wrong with that.”

“What about the burden that comes with it? What about the differences that pull me away?”

“That’s entirely up to you, you can tell yourself it does not exist and be one of them. Or, you can unfold the pages; find some clarity for your head. Whatever floats your boat.”

“You’re really showing me ways to see it; the light.”

“And you can always count on me.”

“Of course, and you are…?”

“I am you.”

“ …“

“You just didn’t realize you have me in you.”


You can count the stars in my constellation, but you can never tell if they are just pieces, because all you think is I’m in one-piece.

You can show me the line, but you can never tell where exactly I’m standing, because all you see is me moving.

You can send me letters, but you can never ask the right question and comfort the right corner, because all you know is you’re supposed to send them.

You can prove your commitment, but you can never convince my heart when it’s no more surrounded, because all your proofs are in the pages of somebody else’s book.

I tried not to put a label on the missing connection in-between. I tried to respect differences. I tried to avoid judgments.

And you tried to make sure I give up.

I’m yet to see the light.