I’m standing with one foot on the shore and one in the ⛵. While I can’t let go of the stability and security of the shore, I also can’t miss this adventure. The mind says stay on the shore, the heart says take that doomed boat.
This is torture and I wish for this misery to end. Somehow. Anyhow. I tell myself, “Sooner or later, you’ll have to make a choice. And in the process you’ll end up taking the risk of making a mistake that will have the power to suck life out of you ounce by ounce or you’ll end up taking the risk of living your life, like actually living it. Neither in a shady corner of your room, nor in the utopia of your imagination but in the reality of your decisions. So decide, let go of the fear of loosing this stable ground, maybe you’ll fall in love with the thrill of floating, so much so that you’ll forget what stable feels like or maybe in the process, you’ll learn to fly, high above in the sky, with the butterflies.”
I keep repeating this to me, I keep reminding myself of what I need to do, but this fear has clutched my heart super bad, it has its claws pinned into my flesh. While living in this mare’s nest, the only thing I can’t forget is to run into your arms. That being the only solace I have and that I know of. You magically silence my mind with your whispers into my ears and calm my racing heart with your arms around me. The dilemma seems to fade away as fast as it appeared. The hurricane has left. I’m not shaking anymore. I’m not fighting for breath anymore. I’m not maniacally trying to suck oxygen to balloon my lungs. I’m taking long, deep but calm breaths. My heart beats in the rhythm that you rock me in your lap. I’m filled with happiness. The joy has overpowered my pain, my indecisiveness, for now. I like it here, in your warm embrace, like the kisses of first rays of the sun after heavy rain. Right now, I’m just where I want to be, and I want to be here for the rest of my life.
Last modified: May 29, 2020
