I Am Sorry I Couldn't Create A Safe Place For You.

You just walked away like that.

And took all of my words with you.

I am left with an empty pen,

and an even emptier heart.

Where do I go from here?

Back to the misery that I came from,

or the uncertain darkness that lay ahead.

Maybe I'll rest here for a while.

Under the fading glow of the moon,

with the silence of the sky to keep me company.

It's not that I can't move on.

I just want to linger here a little more,

to trace my fingers through the blurring outlines of our fates.

Let the dying sun go in peace.

And soon enough I'll be gone from your name too.

Till then say yes to the whsipers I've sent with the wind.

Tell me that it was a good story.

And that you loved me once.

We are all someone's hero if not our own.

I asked......

Would you consider yourself, a hero?

Everybody is put here for a reason. Some of us are put here for others to look at and be the example of what not to do. Some put here for them to aspire to. Be the reason another person succeeds. Someone you want to be like. Maybe a hero, maybe a mentor. It's up to us to follow, or be, whichever one we choose.

Would you read your own story?

Or maybe, a question within your story.

The story of your life.

Would you read that story? Would you read the ending? What if the story told everything? Past, present, and future. What if?

What if your story told of every adventure you’ve ever had? If the story told of your heartbreaks and loves? If that story was the truth? And told as only the truth could read? Not like you’d like to remember at times.

If the story told about the highest highs, and the lowest lows? The times that you nearly gave up, and the times you owned the world? Your world.

If the story looked ahead to things not known to you yet? The events and people that will shape your destiny? New people. New hopes, and new tears. New love. The chance to live a long life, or a death that is as sudden as an eye blink.

Would you read that story?

Would it read like you would want?

Would you be the hero of your own story? Righting past wrongs. Living a full life. Or, would you waste the very ink it was written with? A story not worth telling.

Maybe, that is your question. Maybe you should ask yourself that very thing before your story is written.

A question within a story.

The story of your life.

And I asked this, because her story is still unfolding.

It could be considered a tragedy, be she herself wrote out that part.

So, when I asked her, “do you consider yourself a hero”, her answer was simply,

“I don’t know. Maybe some people see me that way. But I think we all rise above situations in life and we can all be hero’s.”

Be someones hero.

What about the ones who don't figure it out? Do they splash around in love till someone comes along and save them? Or do they drown slowly, regretting that they fell in love? I wish we knew how deep the waters were before we decide to dive in. I wish we knew how much it hurts when you try to breathe underwater.

“Some people don’t know how to fall in love, like not knowing how to swim. They panic first when they jump in. Then they figure it out.”

— Sarah Addison Allen

Honestly I don't know.

But maybe I love them because they feel like a part of me.

Like I am a puzzle and the pieces are scattered all over this world. As songs and paintings and poetry and plants. And like stars and moon and oceans and trees.

The things I love are the reflections of my soul.

Everything I've ever loved reminds me of who I once was or who I am. I love them because they feel like home. Like they are made of the same things that I was made from.

I love them simply because they make me, me.

Why do you love what you love?

A million touches later you're finally here to stay.

Probably with a million more you'll finally fall for me too.

But sadly, we don't have so much time.

Maybe this is our last sunset together.

And when the light of the next moon falls on your pretty face,

I'll close my eyes one last time.

And just like that fade away with nothing but your name on my lips.

There was love between us.

Until one day there wasn't.

We just woke up and decided that was it.

And just like that, our paths diverged.

Will they ever cross again?

I don't know.

But everywhere I go, I still get reminded of you.

You might have left,

but not before leaving my soul drenched in your being.

Wherever I go, I can only think of you being there too.

We thought it'd be nice to be free again.

But now the freedom seems to have turned to loneliness.

And with every sunrise I miss you a little more.

You've been absent for a while now,

but I've been loving you nonetheless.

And judging by the way my eyes search for your face in every crowd,

I think I am going to love you always.

Whether you like it or not.

Whether I like it not.

And just like that I am yearning for you again.

And that's when I realised, there's still love between us.

From me to you.

And I'll wait for it to come back.

From you to me.

I miss you.

When will you come home?

There is no escape.

You can't run away from your mind.

From how you look and who you are.

But like the sky, you will never be blue all the time.

Like the sky, there are colours in you that are beautiful.

You have your own winters and springs,

Your own dawn and dusk.

Stars in your laugh and moonlight in your eyes.

Like the sky, you're the comfort to someone somewhere.

This is the moment you have to realise, being you is fine.

Because like the sky, you hold so much beauty and comfort.

There is no escape

Not for you

Not from yourself

The idea of escaping yourself is an illusion

This is the moment when you have to realize, life is made to be faced

Not to be hidden from

Because like the sky, it will never let you out of sight

Like the sky it will envelope you from all sides

And like the sky when you least expect it, life will come crashing down

There was never a fullmoon when I didn't think of your glowing face as I fell back into the peaceful depths of slumber.

And there was never a day when I didn't wish I could see your smile with the morning sunrays kissing your face.

I've been in love with you for so long now, that I count my days in the ways you exist here in this space.

Love was never a choice. It was the only option.

And you, my love, is the best of heaven and earth.

“Don’t say maybe if you want to say no.”

— Paulo Coelho

I know I belong.

Here, between the spaces of your fingers, and the crook of your neck.

On your lips and in your eyes.

I've finally found a home far from any other.

The restlessness in me is slowly being put to sleep by your sweet voice, the soft tunes that fall from your lips heals the broken parts of me from within.

For once, the world feels so much more beautiful than it ever was.

Because there's you and there's me. And because that's all that I need.

For once, it's enough.

For once