All of my life ...

 

A huge part of my healing process was anchored in the act of forgetting. I want to snatch every ugly experience and archive them so that it won't have a space in my future timeline.

For many years, I was completely detached from the reality . I felt like a stray going with no hope of a home toward the end. And so I keep latching onto this chasm of mindless wander. That maybe when I undress this wound or strip this grief from this body it has occupied in, everything would turn out beautifully.

But as I go on, I realized there are things I can't simply forget by just running away because that's not how it will always work. Sometimes, sitting with my grief reminds me of existing. And even then sometimes, it reminds me I am capable of feeling.

When I am down and depressed, I try to pick up the pieces of little good things I can remember and fill it up with nothing but brightness. I run back to it. I start laying the bricks over again. I start living without trying to forget....