Perhaps one day, in all finality, I'll be able to find myself once more. I'll be able to kiss myself and say that I've done a good job, and that all my efforts have paid off. Perhaps one day, I'll be able to forgive myself for the sins I've committed to others: the hurt i caused upon theirs and my own heart. Truly maybe. Hopefully. Longingly. I want to.
But finality can only come when there is reconciliation, and peace can only be derived from forgiveness.
And I haven't found the strength nor reason to forgive myself for the wrong reasons why I did things, the way I've cheated and lied to myself, and how I've caused myself to warp my own perspective of the world and its inhabitants. I haven't found the courage to let go of the people in my life who cause me so much pain, and run to those who love me for help. I haven't found the humility to accept my wrongs and confess them to others. I haven't found anything to make amends to my past.
They remain in my past and they remain there shattered and ignored. Simply turning away doesn't mean that you've moved on. Simply closing your eyes doesn't mean that you've come to terms with your pain. Simply crying doesn't indicate purgation. Simply talking about it doesn't mean that you've confessed your pain. Simply smiling doesn't mean you're happy, and neither will smiling convince you that you are. Simply not feeling, doesn't mean you're numb. Yet-
Simply sitting down to lament in this darkness doesn't mean that you're in pain.
! dug deep in the sand
