• thoughts on forgiveness (and love), part 2.

    I'm down by Sunshine Beach with my brother. It's the last day. The last day that i'm going to get to see the face of the beautiful boy. It's so warm, and the air is salty and thick and textured with moisture. It's that classic middle of summer heat where you're comfortably dirty. You don't feel clean but you're alright with it because you're sort of at one with the atmosphere and you know that at some point you're going to end up back in the water anyway. Some type of water will eventually rinse you clean and you'll start again. Queensland humidity is a blanket of protection that registers me carefree and casual, and it's also the thing that drives me insane. Typical. 

    I got in the water. I needed to swim and be submerged, because I was just so excited, and so nervous. We went to Sunshine Beach that day to take photos and so that I could film my brother walking into the waves fully clothed. I needed to distract myself with a creative project of some kind. Some little outpouring of expression to kind of infuse some hope into the general blueness that this last day held. It actually felt blue. But it was so warm.

    So i'm waiting by my phone, i'm nervous, i'm restless, i'm eager to say hello, and I know i'll be saying goodbye too. I'm sort of half consumed by a glowing feeling, a feeling of sureness and weight and safety because I get to see him tonight! I'll drive after midnight! I'll park my car! I'll get out and there he'll be! And then the other half of me is consumed by fear and panic and, well, pain. True pain. I know all pain is true, but most pain I can brush off, like the pain I felt after I had ankle surgery when I was fourteen, or the pain from running too hard and fast after a period of inactivity, you wake up with aching legs, but whatever, you get on with it. This pain enveloped me, it filled all my empty spots and I couldn't just shake it away. So i'm calling this pain true.

    Anyway, I need to maybe stop this whole thing right here, right now. I wrote the part above a few months ago when I was still in love, when not a single day would pass without a thought of him entering my mind. Somehow this all felt kind of romantic and beautiful and I felt compelled to write about it, but now it's a new year and i've moved on and it's important that I continue this forward movement, because last year was just straight up painful and nuts, and I cried more than ever before. For the second half of the year I pretty much shut myself down. I missed out on a lot, by choice because I was too preoccupied with trying to understand the meaning behind all of this. It wasn't just a breakup, I mean was it even a relationship? In the scheme of social norms and labels and what a relationship is supposed to look like, ours wasn't all that. It was something else. I'm grateful though, for all of it. For what I know now, and for what i've felt. There's a really clear line that seperates my life pre and post meeting this person. It's like I became a completely different person the next day after meeting him, and the two years that followed were some of the most ludicrous years. Who knows what's ahead? Plenty i'm sure.

    So that's all there is for me to share regarding him and us, there isn't any more. This all ends now, and i'm striding forward taking off the heaviness that has cloaked me for the past two years. I'm back on track. The path is illuminated and there's things to make and goodness to let in. 

    If it's heavy, let it go.