Sunrise Stories.

Sometimes in life, you are alone. Both physically and emotionally. There are times when you suddenly find yourself detached in all dimensions, and all of the people and thoughts you used to cling to somehow move further away, until you’re left with this vast emptiness— an expansive, dark and frightful emptiness, encrypted with mysteries you cannot yet decipher, and all you are left with is this space, and you don’t know what to do with it.

It’s a long night for I spend it analysing this space. I see my dearest memories so far away and no longer real, their impact pulsating in my veins in shocking frustrations. Maintaining this beautiful impact is arduous, it requires a stream of forgiveness and peace, one that cannot always be attained midst the overwhelm and confusion.

I spend some time feeling my eyes tear slowly, experiencing the fires in my chest. The fires that desire so much, that long for a past projected irrationally into a future one cannot control nor paint. With every tear, my body remembers love and safety, it remembers the emptiness once more and falls apart with heaves and shaky breaths. It remembers how many pages need to be written in order to cure the frightfulness of this emptiness, of this very new beginning.

And every time I remember love, I remember how it made me feel alive. I remember how it allowed my body to dance, my breaths to soar, my eyes to rest and deepen and heart to flutter in gratitude and joy. I remember how whole, fulfilled and sane I was and compare it to my present— one defined by worldly distractions, lessons to learn and challenges to overcome. One devoid of a pure essence that fills the days with magic and enlightenment, a pure essence that manifests itself into all what is— an empowering love.

I close my eyes and realise that I deeply know how wrong I am. How I shouldn’t be thinking that way and shift my thoughts into the hidden truths of my upcoming days, how this is all a part of a journey, its destination determined and verily believed in. I remind myself that I’m not healing by thinking about what is missing, how I’m confusing love with reality when in fact, it is an energy that can be found everywhere, and most prominently right now, right where I am— there is a boundless love to be embraced.

The sun soon rises and illuminates my foreign, empty room. Its four walls reminding me of limits and nothing else. The sun moves me from my bed, tired and frowning but it greets me gently. It tells me that she is the same sun that shined when I was full of love and joy, it is still the same sun that shines when I’m confused and unhappy.

I’m still me, through all phases. I’m still me when I’m figuring it out. I’m still me, who will continue to shine every single day, despite the coming mists and clouds. I’m still me.

I’m still the love I believe in. I hold it within and it shall flow to wherever it finds suitable. I should be at peace. I should forgive reality for not moulding into my ideals just yet. It’s only a matter of time. It’s only a matter of strength and faith.

I embrace myself lovingly, even though the embrace is cold and unfeeling. But it is an action that shall ripple, eventually. It is one that shall mean the world, an action that will count.

It is the love that found itself when nothing attracted it. And that makes all the difference. It shall always be sacredly remembered.