In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Fear Factor.”
Of never getting my story across.
My only fear is that it will always remain unfinished.
The rushy words inside my head are now throbbing inside my stomach and they pinch my feet. They’re not just Saussurean representation of sounds and images, they’ve already connected and formed a tiny terracotta army. Sometimes, I can hear them. Their slow march grows inside my ears before I go to sleep and sometimes even when I am dreaming. When I awake, I try to grab them by their tail and ‘pull the story back trough me’. For the past months it managed to get away from me. Hiding behind everyday’s tumult I have rapidly created the perfect comfort zone with sharp edges. Sometimes, I would hit myself against them and the sweet pain of writing again emerges…for a while. But there are times when I bleed, continuously and I do not die, instead, I feel free like floating on top of the world. Vertige, you might say? Perhaps. Yet, I am enjoying it.
This is my promise to myself: from now on, not a day shall pass without continuing my story. It is my destiny, or less fatalist, it is who I am. And I owe it not only to myself but to the One who has put this in me.
We are all here for a purpose. The others are awaiting to see our light. Sit under the tree of inspiration and make room for your story to flow. Freely.
Make this year the best story of your life!
“Love liberates. It doesn’t just hold—that’s ego. Love liberates. It doesn’t bind. Love says, ‘I love you. I love you if you’re in China. I love you if you’re across town. I love you if you’re in Harlem. I love you. I would like to be near you. I’d like to have your arms around me. I’d like to hear your voice in my ear. But that’s not possible now, so I love you. Go.” ~ Maya Angelou
I just want to close my eyes and see you … remember you with each fiber of my body, every cell of my skin to be filled with your warmth. It is impossible to forget you, as my body remembers yours all the time: the sweet, calm emotion of your arms embracing me, I can still feel it. It’s been almost a year and more days to pass until we will be together again, yet we’d never felt this close. At the slightest inflection of your voice, my heart starts racing, telling me you’re here and that the empty side of my bed is but an illusion. You can make the time stop: nothing’s changed and everything’s alright at your only reassurance. We do not fear distance, we own it. We let distance pull us together and confess rather raw and unfinished, honest thoughts that make us unbreakable. No judgement finds its place in our life, because we can see ourselves mirrored in each other thus, knowing what to adjust and how to be free to be us even when or not together.
‘What is on your mind?’
The type of question that no longer seems to be needed; because you and me, we both know. It is the look in your eyes, the mere reflection of my own image and tears that gather in the corner of your eyes that speak. Words are redundant when the souls connect; we are so different, yet so inseparably the same. You once said we were twins and perhaps that in an ancient time our souls truly were, and now they had re-found each other. It might be the reason why we know one another inside-out and why we find comfort in simply being in a duet. Not two voices that sound like one, but voices that beautifully harmonize and make the singing birds feel jealousy.
There is no part of my existence that has not been incommensurably touched by you. My coffee? It always reminds me of the early mornings when before leaving for work, I would make two cups of coffee, gently placing one by the night stand next to you, only to find it later in the evening, almost untouched and in the same place. It did not bother me, on the contrary, it was one of the sweetest ways to start the day although you didn’t need to wake up and neither did you really enjoy the bitter-sweet taste of it, you wanted to be part of my morning routine and it never felt more lovely. Or your hugs when waking up beside you, that only made want to abandon all worldliness and just slip back into dreams.
Your arms bear magic, the kind of magic that sweeps all the sorrows and make me believe all is possible.