I had grown tired, so tired in fact that my back didn’t function any more. At all. I was familiar with my back problems and I knew I could stretch them as much, quite far in fact, but no further. I had run out of will power and my back knew it before I did. It always does.
In a way, I am not honest enough to admit that I just don’t want to any more. To express to others that I don’t want to any more. And to trust myself that it will come back to me, that I just need to let myself be for a bit. Instead, my back forces me to stop whatever I don’t want to do and I tell people I have such pain that I need rest.
In truth, this is what it is. More and more, it seems to me, there is no difference between want to, long to and need to, physically and emotionally. And also, that I’m responsible for all of them. That every time, I have a choice, whilst in the end there is only one choice: to trust myself or not, or maybe even more so, to love or not to love. To be responsible for myself is the most beautiful gift I have been given.
In my attempts to take better care of myself, I came across feelings of guilt. They made me grow cold and low. They made me mistrust other people’s good intentions, unable to bring them my smile. It is not a place I want to be. So that I tried not to worry too much any more about the nature of my heart, whether I am good or bad, doing the right or the wrong thing. My heart needs to be filled with love to warm up my world.
It is as if the warmth heals my wounds and the only thing left now is a stain, the shame, however unnecessary, unreasonable. Shame doesn’t need a reason, nor a brush to take it away. Maybe my shame is just the last bit of the pain, the longing for a life that should have been different.
Maybe it is the inability to see the leftovers of my past in the faces of the people that I meet, looking at me in pity and hopelessness for the future. Or watching myself, in a situation that I have not chosen, reduced to only a fraction of who I know I could be, full of light and life.
And so I wonder, am I ready for my next journey, have I recovered enough from previous pain to invest in life again and trust and risk new pain that I may meet in my search for love? Do I believe real love and beauty will be there for me, that I have the power to create them for myself?
I am not quite sure, maybe not just yet. My appetite is still lingering, sometimes there, yet insufficient to get enough energy gushing through my system. But I am here, and I am looking forward to you.
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