I never thought I needed you until you held my thoughts, and suddenly the burden was off. You held memory for me, and I could trust things big and small in the space you gave me.
Still. I never thought I’d be this old. Not in years but in emotion and all that’s taking a toll. And it is strange, so strange, that it comes down to saying this:
Remember to love.
Remember to love yourself.
Remember to care.
Remember what made you.
Remember not to break.
When did I begin to forget?
When did it stop being second nature?
Life is like the first book I finished reading, and as I read on to the sequel, I must remember certain things. But it is difficult some days to wake up with the weight of all that’s yet to be done, pressing against me and pushing me down before I ever stand up. It is difficult to leave behind others.
Sometimes I want to be empty. Not to erase or fill myself with something else, but just to breathe in white, the blank sheet of a new leaf of paper, the rest before I begin the next chapter.
But I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust my mind; I think it will repress even love, because love has started to hurt.
And that’s when I met you. The one who gives me the freedom to let go. Who holds me without judgement and gives me back to myself when it’s time, when I am ready to take on the next line.
I give you all the things that make my life what it is, and you give me the assurance that I can survive every task.
Whatever makes the burden a little lighter, right?
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