I Watered a Garden That Only Bloomed in My Imagination

I left the window open untill the dust settled

I do not know how many of you have had the gracious and most beautiful opportunity and freedom to experience something so riveting and spellbinding but also so mutilating and eviscerating that at a point when the world saw the truth I was still blinded immensely holding on to an illusion.

The stars kept their distance

Every single moment spent, was like an elongated 7 minutes in heaven and I have never been more myself since then. The laughs, the tears, the silence, the anger. It all felt like sentences written in a novel that was made to end way to early, and just when i thought, the climax was about to arrive and everything would be alright, everything would be fine. The last page turned itself.

The lighthouse dimmed at dawn

And somewhere between the truth and the illusion, I realized that not every light is meant to guide us home. Some are only meant to show us how far we’ve wandered. The road had taken so much from me that turning back felt more frightening than continuing, I repeatedly convinced myself that things will turn for the better, that people might see it the way I do, that maybe reality is not that bad, and that if do not give up then I would be happy, and everything would happily like it did in the Kingdom of Far Far Away. I watered a garden that only bloomed in my imagination.

The letter yellowed before it was read

Was it hard? Yeah. Did it feel like a knife twisting in my gut most of the time? Yeah. Did i try to change myself according to an image not of my own? Yeah. Why? I truly do not know. It’s not easy to put labels on things like this and why should we? Why should categorise everything in my life, maybe the beauty of life is that somethings cannot be explained but can only simply felt. on n’était pas faits pour durer

I learned the shape of silence

Photo by Sebastian Kurpiel on Unsplash