No one ever tells you how life is going to be. Past. Present. Future. They flow into one another so seamlessly, in a blink of an eye, one becomes the other, but never backwards. I hope one day, that I am fully awake…awake from this dream that sits so well in my head. Lights. A voice. “Did you think you would get away?” Is it God? Or, the voice of yourself, in your own head?
The school bell rings, one class is over, on to the next. Life is the same way. Marked by different stages of life. Birth. Puberty. Death. It is a cyclical way of being, and for some a method of living, and of surviving. Your mark lives upon my back. A simple reminder of the truth I bear inside. A birth of a life that died so many years ago. 18 to be exact.
My life, my heart, my soul became so shattered…because you didn’t love me. You couldn’t love me.
School to work. Life goes on. The resentment grew inside, it tasted so bitter. You could drink gallons of water, and the taste of ash still lived inside. The ash of a life still stagnant inside of you.
But you didn’t love me. You couldn’t love me.
You think of all the things that need to be done in life. The things that need to be accomplished to feel accomplished. Career is a must. Find it. Live it. Breathe it. Doing so makes you feel alive. It allows you to feel like you are doing something more than just what you are deemed to be. It’s there, written on paper, right in front of you.
The voices come back. They tell you, let it out. You are great, and no one can ever take that from you. But Daniel…you forgot something…it’s about forgiveness.
But you didn’t love me. You couldn’t love me, says the reflection looking back at me…and then I spoke back to it…you can’t live that way anymore, because you see I forgive you. I love you. Even if it took you 13 years to realize it…I forgive you.