It's 2 a.m. and I can't sleep. It's September 23rd of 2013 and I'm falling to pieces and broken to bits by life. There's nothing else to it. It's painful, with these jagged edges and bruised soul, hurting and unable to stop hurting; for whenever I do, I accidentally bump into myself and tear open whatever was healing.
But I'm not sure I would change it.
I have never had an aching in my chest for this long or felt like life is unbearable to this degree before. I have never taken such comfort in the beauty of the moonlight before or lay on the road and gotten lost in the stars like I have lately. Now, there's nothing more precious to me than the simple sound of nature or the scratching of pen against paper or having someone to lean into when goddammit I can barely stand.
I'm standing on the edge of myself
And it's beautiful.
There's something to be said for having oneself torn apart. All the words of truth and all the beauty scratched out, pulled apart and rewritten. When everything one held as true in this world falls apart and melts in one's hands, whatever is left is so achingly beautiful in it's endurance that at times it takes one's breath away.
"It's when you're breaking down with your insides coming out
That's when you find what your heart is made of..." ~Switchfoot
Somehow, despite everything, I am holding parts of myself I would have never thought still existed, or ever would. The parts of me I fought hard for, loving beyond measure and hoping when there is nothing to hope for and a faith that might not move mountains, but can withstand any disaster thrown at it, are still standing, rising up from the ruins of who I was. Amongst the rubble and ashes, those seeds have begun to push their way up.
One thing I always desired, cried over when the moon hit just right and all the magic that could be brushed up against my soul, was to have an epic story. I wanted to be a queen who fought for her people and ruled with justice and mercy, her reign benefiting the peasant and the lord. Screw math problems; I wanted to be out slaying evil monsters and saving those who couldn't save themselves. I wanted to be hated because of what a threat I was to everything evil and wicked in this world.
If I had never been broken, I would have never come to realize that I have a story like that waiting for me to write it, with myself as the protagonist. I may not ever get the righteous king to stand beside me and love me for the same reasons I love him. I may not ever get the chance to swing a sword and watch something of pure evil topple, but I can go out and live like I am the leader of a country, with a nation of people to guide and protect. I may never be able to travel the world and traverse mountains, but there's plenty where I am now to explore and discover, I just have to learn to open my eyes.
I may never be able to wield magic or dance with Fae or speak with trees, but I have the ability to write, to create stories and possibly transport someone to a place where they can live, if only for a little bit, and that's the best magic of all.
All I needed to see the sun rising within me, daring me to shine with whatever I can, was to stand on the edge of me and chance a fall.