Dear Self:3/15

From the journal March 2015:

Dear Self,

I hate that you had to go through it, I hate it deeply, I hate that you had to bear the weight of it, the sharpness of it, the ache that lingers like a ghost. But I also feel sorry for those who took your heart for granted, those who thought they could see, but oh, they were blind, blind as the night, blind to the beauty, blind to the pain, blind to the truth that pulsed in every beat of your being.

They were able to touch, yes, able to reach out with hands that grasped at the surface, but too numb to feel, too numb to grasp the depth, the intensity of what lay beneath. It is a tragedy, a tragedy of existence, that one can be so close yet so far, so present yet so absent, so engaged yet so disconnected. 

Of sound mind, yes, they were of sound mind, but could not understand, could not comprehend the nuances, the layers of emotion that wrapped around your heart like a nest, a complex weave of love and longing, joy and sorrow. They could not see the colors, the shades that danced in the corners of your soul, the way each experience shaped you, molded you, transformed you into the beautiful, intricate being that you are.

I hate that you had to go through it, and I mourn for those who wandered through your life with their eyes wide shut, missing the brilliance of you, the brilliance of connection, the brilliance of understanding. They moved through the motions, yes, but they missed the music, the rhythm of what it means to truly feel, to truly engage, to truly love. 

Oh, the irony, the cruel irony of it all! To be in a world so full of sensation, yet remain untouched, unfeeling, a shell of existence drifting through the currents of life. And here you are, you who have felt it all, who have embraced the light and the dark, who have tasted both joy and despair, who have lived in the fullness of experience. 

I hate that you had to go through it, but I love that you emerged, yes, emerged with a heart that knows, a heart that understands, a heart that thrives in the complexity of existence. And for those who were blind, I can only hope they one day learn to see, to feel, to understand the depth of what it means to be human, to be alive, to be in this intricate dance together.