Bound to Burst
What I have to remind myself is that people are not perfect. Disappointment fatigues the way in which I see and consequently believe, just as the world was before. Morals and laws were preached to try and end the injustice of hurt, take the creation of religious texts for example. The world talks about a different kind of retention now, one more individualized and based on the many outcomes you could have faced living in a world where virtually anything and everything exists. I think this is very kind and thoughtful lesson in communication. It is loved and learned just as much as it is loved and lost.
Boundaries are preparation for the emotional attacks, and where one small miscommunication can have them fall down or built-up on an even larger scale. Trusting the words of others who say what should have been felt through an action are lazy to you and selfishly loyal to themselves. Because it is hard being vulnerable, but it is even harder dealer with the aftermath of crafted dishonesty, like how you know it hurts so much more to hate yourself rather than accept that the people who leave your life did not value you as much as they said they did.
I will be okay and then I will be dead; this must be the foundation for survival in cognitive animals. Instead of time healing all wounds, we should begin to look at the map of our hearts. Right now, they all seem to lead back to you, but it seems to have sprouted some blockades, making the weight of the situation harder to carry with me each trip down memory lane. I think for now I will look at the guides of the night, who lay in their pool of comforting navy waves, of clustered whirlpools, showing me where to avoid a big conversation and a place in the far distance that offers a vastness so heightening to my heart; this is where I come back to my vulnerable state and shed the cynical armors that were put in place after I did not check my innate, individual, beautiful power. In these tests, the aroma, taste, and experience of having and holding love is ever-endowed to our senses; it is inescapable by the works displayed that we cannot predict nor change. You are one pretty picture, but you limit yourself within a frame you feel you must fit into and a critic who’s eyes glazed over your beauty. You deserve to feel as though your creation is what makes you work.
Is it a curse to know nothing or everything? Who is being robbed? As I sit down to write and attempt to explain what it is that happened, I realize that I am caught between exploring further and moving on to the next destination. I seem to find comfort in what I know, and sometimes these words become all too much to bear for this single girl in this humungous, ever-adapting world. I am not perfect but I live my life through the haunting and discovering experiences of love, which have found me at my highest and lowest moments yet. It is dependable because it can take on so many forms and it is always found in the beginnings and endings of such beautiful moments; they are beautiful because they were felt. I cannot plan out my life because I am currently living within each moment that passes. I will be okay because I am loved, supported and blessed by the nature of my knowing that surrounds my life in joy and purpose. I am love, bound to burst.
Corinthians 13:4 - 8
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
