‘Twas a good day in my city- better, at least, than the past several weeks I spent, wandering around, trying to find some peace. At least, today held some peace. At least, I knew I would be okay, alive, manageable, sustainable- At least, I knew I would make it. Or, would I?
I muttered aloud today, what I was muttering under my breath for the last few weeks- “Love yourself, love yourself, love yourself”. However, little did I realize that the pain I was undergoing was because I loved myself too much, I loved myself so much. Thank you to the woman, who was also hurting so subtly, who made me realize that everything I was doing, was for myself.
I used to say to him that often when I looked at his face, I could see a reflection of myself. Perhaps, at some point, I became inclined to look at that mirror within him, to confirm I am alive. Perhaps, at some point, I realized that this mirror pulled me closer to my soul, unlike any other mirror I could purchase in life. There was little remaining of my authentic soul and only I knew this. My soul, which originated in my mother’s womb, by God’s hands, and guided through life, until today. That soul, which was the only thing allowing me to be alive, to be this person that they loved. That soul, which allowed me to overcome all I had struggled with today. Yet, those who loved this soul, had also the audacity to tell me to leave it.
Leave it and love yourself, said they. Little did they realize that if I left my own self, I would have no soul remaining. I would be another person, and I would lose her, whom I worked on so hard, to make it through life’s challenges. I did not want to be another person. I loved her too much, to let her go like this. I had lost too many versions of her, to lose another. I did not need a better her, an improved her. If I let this scarred, insulated, and passionate her go, I would resent the her who would form from this.
Often they say, no. You will learn to love the new her, also. You will learn to move through life with the new her. Of course. ‘Tis life. I would have to live with the new her. I would perhaps, even love the new her. But the hole I would have in my heart for the remainder of my many reincarnations, from this her, would not go away, and I was not ready to live with this loss.
It is a pity, they did not realize I was loving myself this entire time, a bit too much. It is a pity, they did not admire me for finding myself, so I could continue being whole. It is a pity, they would rather have me around, as half.