1 year later \ 12:40am
I’ve been meaning to write about this past year.
Maybe it’s been longer, i don’t know anymore.
It’s been a year of heart break, anxiety, loneliness,
tears, rivers, and drowning.
The year that happened to be the lowest point I’ve ever encountered
throughout my life; the 20 summers I’ve been blessed with.
Slowly, or maybe quickly, loosing control over where my life was going, myself, my reality.
I’m not blaming anyone, and it’s not your fault.
As much as I’ve slowly learned to love myself, I know that I was the root of all my experiences throughout that time.
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I always feel like I’m drowning in a manifestation of all my fears, sorrows,
anxiety, broken dreams and anger.
A sense of pressure I’ve felt since I was a little girl, dragging me by the hair to the bottom of my river.
Is this why I cut my hair? The beautiful long, golden hair I once had,
treasured by my mama, tias and abuelita.
Braided, brushed, twisted into a rope that made it easier to drag me to the bottom of this body of water.
I thought I cut my hair to try out a new hairstyle.
Maybe, it was more to set myself free from that sense of drowning, not being able to breathe.
I slowly started to lose consciousness in this world. I didn’t love myself, or even knew how to love someone else.
My river started to transform into an ocean, that I only allowed myself to navigate.
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I’ve been, I am recovering.
Maybe cutting my long, heavy hair did help after all.
Maybe I’m finally starting to drift and float back to the surface.
Back to fresh air, a sweet sensation of life.
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I’m scared. I’m scared to fully love and take care of myself.
This means letting go. This means forgiving. This means being gentle.
This means being assertive. This means a new life filled with love for my self and for others.
This means learning to enjoy being alone; loving my own presence.
This means loving you, the way you always deserved to be loved.
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I’m not sure if anyone will understand, and I don’t think I care if anyone does either.
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