You don’t have to write a novel, fill a gallery with art or direct a play to tell your story. Find a way that works. Find a way to tell your tragedy. To inspire the ones on the same path. Your story is the cuts beneath your skin. The bags beneath your eyes. The dirt beneath your nails. Not everyone can see and not everyone will understand but, the ones that do need you to use the dirt on your hands to help them build their own castle in the sand.
Your family may fight but it shows that they’re there. Your job may be boring but it means you still have one. Your skin may be flawed but it means that you’ve grown. Your mistakes may be bad but it means that you’re human. Your smile may be temporary but it means there’s still hope. Your life may be hard but it means that you’re living and the fact that you’re living; means you’ve done something right.
A house isn’t a home without the people beneath the roof. A vacation isn’t worth the trip without the culture you embrace. A friendship isn’t more then company until you learn to let them in and a relationship is only lust until you find someone to love. A job is simply work until you’re doing something worthwhile and your life is simply existence until you truly start to live.
Don’t give up too soon, for life has more to offer. The people will change and situations will happen. There are things beyond your control. There are things not worth the pain. Find your outlook, find what’s right, and you will never search for happiness again.
Sometimes I like that I believed your lies because it meant I thought the best of you. Sometimes I like how hard I tried to make things work, because it meant I was open to the idea of you. Sometimes I like the times things went wrong, because it meant I was willing to fight for you.
It’s bittersweet getting through something with the very person who put you though it, but I’m so glad I did because it meant life hasn’t yet, made me cold to the idea of love. And that’s because of you.
To lose you is to admit defeat to a world that works against us. A world offended by simple love. To lose you is to hate the universe for the happiness it takes to soon. The futures it cuts too short. I offer to lose you time and time again; hoping fate will tire and move on. Turns out fate has those same plans for me.
Fate has no patience. No hesitance. No we’ll see how it goes. No mercy on the love letters or the people who sign them. Fate gives you a box of tools and the hands to use them. Gives you people to love and the hands to hold them.
Fate’s a coincidence that works out. A consequence meant to last. This is the last time I’ll lose you, as I fight an impossible battle but as fate has promised, this will one day make sense.
Some people are simply motivation. Your enemy should make you want to be better, your ex should make you want to do better. You need someone to push you on stage despite stage fright. Someone to chase you in threat so you’ll run. Someone to taint your once confidence so you’re driven to get it back.
Don’t say someone never gave you anything because for better or for worse, they gave you a reason to wake up in the morning. As long as you come out stronger, you can’t wish for anything better. So, don’t feel sorry for yourself in hopes that someone else will too.
You don’t want to breakdown because you don’t want to challenge the people around you. You don’t want to see who would be there; you just want to believe they would all be.
You may mean the world to them, but no one’s life stops when yours does. You want them to push you, comfort you, convince you there’s good you can’t see. Maybe they can’t keep telling you things will be okay. They can’t call every lunchtime or skip every dinner. They can’t give you expectations that they’ll always be there because sometimes they won’t be. Sometimes your call will go unanswered. Your mind will be left to wander. You don’t want to breakdown because you know; sometimes the idea of someone has to be enough.
Jack-in-the-boxes taught us to expect the unexpected. Show and Tell taught us the worth of having more, having better, having the best. Finger painting taught us the mess we’re capable of and the colours we show, without any intention. Skipping rocks taught us the fight of sink versus swim and a simple game of tag, taught the power of a touch.
We’ve spent years finding lessons within life, yet there’s still so much we don’t know, and so much we haven’t learned. A frustrating idea to some, but a sense of excitement for those who understand, we should be so fortunate to live in a world of the unknown.
So remember the things you learned in the rows of a classroom, but, don’t be mislead. Our educations leave us staring at a wall, and once we turn around, we fall into life’s depths and with that we learn, we must embrace the fall because those who fall are wiser, then those who grab for air.
I still fiddle with the locks and check that every window’s closed shut. I tuck my blanket beneath my body and lie in bed with comfort, knowing my feet are protected from harm. My eyes scan the dark room as I search for shadows within my closet and I get chills down my back when I sense the eerie presence that comes around at night. I close my eyes and roll into the space where you use to fit. Where in your arms I felt safe and protected. Where the warmth of your body silenced all that is wrong.
I toss and I turn ’till the early dark hours, until finally I accept that the strangers in the streets can’t compete with the stranger of who I am, just as the monsters in my closet are nothing compared to the monsters in my head.
We hate when people assume things just pass. If you see me in a month, I still might be confused. If you see me in a year, I still might be insecure. If you see me when I’m smiling, I still might be in pain.
Don’t say, still? Don’t say, I thought you got over that. Don’t say anything if you can’t understand the way pain lingers.
I’d be so simple if we had the same friends, same background, same childhood. It’d be so easy to understand if we had the same thoughts, same fears, same goals. It’d be so different if we could see through the walls people build and understand the laughs that are true and the tears that they drown in.
But we don’t have the power to see the ones who are struggling. So, we should live our lives remembering, we’ve all hurt and with that, we’re all able to hurt again.