Coming home.

Dear You,

I have been driving endlessly, through valleys that are deeper than the highest mountains I have climbed. Through sunrises and sunsets, some lasting longer than the other.

Sleep is now a distant friend, so I carry on my journey alone. Often, I reach out my hand to hold yours, only to be reminded of your absence.

Voids the size of the Milky Way stare back at me.
So I wonder, how an empty heart can feel so heavy.

I thought I was running away from the mess I created. Driving away from you and your thoughts. But they’re all staring at me from the backseat.

Gently reminding me of the pain that has attached itself to me.

I want to come back home,
I want to come back to you.

But I am lost.
And I don’t think these roads can ever lead me back.

In Mourning.

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Today I mourn,
All the things that I lost.
Things that never belonged to me in the first place.
I’ll list it in no particular order,
So here it goes.

Love.
Dreams.
Happiness.
And laughter.

Children.
Peace.
Joy.
And a happily ever-after.

Of all the things I lost and
The ones that left me feeling like a ghost,
You come a close second.
But if I’m being honest, I miss myself the most.

Flooded towns.

Dear You,

I can tell you this with all the wisdom I have gathered, broken hearts are the heaviest. As you watch the contents of your heart spill into the street, waves taking over the whole town, don’t look away.

This is all your love, washing down buildings of memories. You created that, and if the whole town drowns, cutting you off from the rest of the world, then so be it.

If someone wants to reach you, they will sail through the rising waters.

And when that happens all you have to do
Is decide if they can get to you.

Two packages

Artist: Xavieralopez

I came back home

Tired and defeated,

With two packages in hand,

My heart and my bruised ego.

The ego was my doing,

The heart I gave to you for safe keeping.

It slipped from your beautiful fingers several times,

But this time it broke before you could grasp it.

So that’s that.

I came home with two packages in hand.

One was my doing.

The other was yours.

Hello darling, how are you?

Dear You,

I’m writing with the hope that you’re fine and well, alive enough to read my letter. Alive not just physically, in a way that your heart is beating fine and your organs are working just the way they should. But alive enough to soak in the wonder that is all around you.

So you’ve had your heart broken, wouldn’t really be the first time, would it? Will it be the last? Perhaps. Maybe not.
Don’t sulk, isn’t a broken heart a sign of one that was loved anyway? I didn’t make that up, I read it somewhere.
That’s where I get my wisdom from these days — conversations of strangers, random comments by people on social media and some very old books.
Strange places to find solace, isn’t it? Not the books though, they always find a way to soothe my weary soul.

Sorry, I have a way of losing track.
So, while the world seems like a terrible place to live in, especially now that you’re nursing a broken heart, I want to remind you to be a little more kind to everyone. But you’ll first have to start with yourself.
Allow yourself to cry, and when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore, gently remind yourself that you can, you will and you already are.

Be strong, be kind and be gentle.
Say please, thank you and sorry when you have to.
Wash your feet and face before going to bed.
And remember you might feel broken right now,
But you’ve never been more whole.

Back to the future

Dear You,

If I tell you that a year from now you’d quit your job, take a break and travel across the world, would you believe me? Well, maybe you should. Because you’re going to do just that.

2017 could seem like just another year but it will make you brave. You will learn that there is no greater joy than standing up for what you believe in and asking for what you need. And when you realise that love, happiness and peace no longer features on the menu, you will politely move on.

Moving on, however, won’t be easy. It’ll bring with it moments of doubt, sadness and complete chaos. But you don’t have to worry, because it is only when you fall that you learn to look where you’re going. You will understand this soon, but I must tell you, there is no shame in putting yourself first. No shame in leaving behind things and people that no longer make you happy. You are after all your first priority, everything and everyone should come later.

This year, you will learn to be kind and loving to the one person who matters the most – you. It won’t be an easy process, but loving someone never really is. However, you’ll manage to strike up a friendship with yourself and it’ll be the best thing to ever happen.

Don’t ever doubt that you will be loved. You always were, you always will. You might be difficult to love, but not impossible. And there are people who always love a challenge, no?

You must and you will learn to see people for who they really are. Don’t let their judgements cloud you and don’t let harsh words break your spirit. Take a break from toxic people and if the break doesn’t work, cut them out of your life.

This year will bring you closer to people you love a lot but can’t find the means to express it. Hold on to that feeling, it’ll keep you warm.

And while you sit here right now, thinking about how life is going to pan out, I’ll leave you with one last clue. 2017 might keep you at home, but when the year ends, you’ll have to get ready for a new adventure. A fresh beginning, one that involves moving to a new country.

So don’t waste your time worrying about the future, what’s meant to happen simply will. Accept your losses and celebrate your victories, and remember whatever happens you will always be enough for yourself.

Love always,
P

The sense of an ending.

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I knew it was long overdue. 
But please give me the benefit of doubt, I was, to simply put it… scared. 

So I re-read the chapter. Feeling every word, letting each emotion cut through me. This time, allowing flowers to bloom in deserts and letting rivers (that shouldn’t have been there in the first place) go dry. 
And then, once again, I arrived at the last word and the last punctuation mark of the chapter. 

I had two choices:
1) To re-read all of it again.
2) To move on to the next chapter.

I sat there, unable to fight the tears, running my fingers through the now faded words and memories. In that moment, I met the love that got lost somewhere and all those emotions that were hidden under every full-stop.

But, it was time.
And so,
I turned the page.

What’s in a name?


I always made up new names for you. When you’d shrug and roll your eyes in annoyance (and I’d like to think you were faking it), I’d ask you, “really, what’s in a name? You, by any other name would still be as adorable”. You’d roll your eyes again.

Now, when I spot your name on hoardings, in magazines or as the name of the most absurd character on television, it floods my heart with sadness.

Your name. I say it out aloud sometimes, just to remember how it felt.
Your name. A seemingly ordinary one, something I wouldn’t have ever taken notice of before. 
But now, every time someone says it out aloud I turn to look for you. Hoping to find your familiar eyes that once made me smile endlessly.

What’s in a name, you ask?
Everything and then suddenly,
Nothing at all.

Someday over the rainbow. 

What would it be to finally receive some closure?

Would it come to me as an epiphany? Suddenly, like a mid-summer storm, on a holiday across lands and seas? Would it feel like the dark, heavy clouds gave way to some bright sunshine that suddenly lifted the gloom in my life? Of course, you’re not going to answer my questions.

I sometimes impatiently wait for it, just like I once did for you. Heavy with anticipation, eyes not moving from the door for even a second, lest you walk in and I miss that glorious sight. But wait, how is this about you? This is about me and my quest to find some peace for what we once had and what we now do not.

The thoughts in my head, the words that don’t seem to leave me alone and you… all feel like a terrible mix and I can’t seem to contain it anymore. The former find a way to get out, strewn carelessly sometimes through letters and blogs.  But you? You refuse to budge.

It feels like I’m going to war, so I wear an armour to protect myself from thoughts of a happier time. There is no use, because the memories start playing, in bright colours, laughter echoing  while sunlight flitters in and out of your room and you rush to hold me. Then the movie pauses. I pull back the armour on and walk out.

There is no peace now, but someday on the shores of another foreign city when the setting sun gives way to the night, it’ll probably come to me.
Maybe that day I’ll watch that movie without flinching, perhaps I’ll even clap, whistle and cheer when the credits roll.
And maybe that day  I’ll get my closure.