Our heart pounds like heels, kicking at the walls of our empty chests. If you would only listen, you would know we pound in unison. If you would only listen and know that we all are fighting to feel hope. Many call sorrow an acquaintance, but you and I, we both know it much better. A constant companion, a chill you just can’t seem to shake. The mirror is like watching a ship pound against the charred landscape, but the volume is turned way down and no one else can hear the storm, the screaming pieces as you are pulled away from yourself.
But the ship is built to last, and this storm won’t be forever.
Beyond all the metaphors we employ to make it feel more real, or make it feel less real, or try to make them understand… beyond all these things there is simply truth.
Our hearts hurts. Our chests are heavy for no reason. We are not happy like we ought to be. A friend told me the other day, that love is close to grief. I’ve always considered them enemies, but I realize that they walk hand in hand down the road next to us.
I feel the push and the pull, same as you. Maybe all you see is darkness and pain, but there is a light inside you that can’t be put out. But you need to choose to keep fighting. You can’t give up on hope, because you are irreplaceable. No one can hold your place. That light that only you hold inside of you, that spark of life… maybe it’s only a remnant of something you used to feel. But you are alive, breathing, and are of infinite worth.
You are not too much.
You are not annoying.
You are not an inconvenience.
You are not a loser.
You are not an addict.
You are not useless.
You are not an afterthought.
You are wonderful.
You matter.
You are loved.
You don’t need to hide who you are.
You are not too big.
You are not too small.
You are beautiful.
You are unique.
You are here for a reason.
You are irreplaceable.
You are exactly and precisely and incredibly perfect and lovely.
So tell your loved ones to wrap their arms around your broken bits to hold you together as you heal. Take your time. Feel what you feel. Forgive when you can. Hold on. Don’t let go. The fact that I am alive to tell you this means that it is possible. The fact that you are alive means that it is possible.
You are not alone. We are standing with you.
Take these words of hope and make them your own, even if they feel foreign for a while. Someday soon they won’t feel so strange. These words will feel like coming home. Then hope can spill out of you. Soon you will say these words to the lonely, the lost, the disenchanted, the hopeless.
We are together in this. This is why we are here. May our every breath spill out hope as we repaint the charred hillsides with our fingertips, our cascading peace misting every branch and rock and aching soul.
I love you. You are not alone.
Dan
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