The tide and the winds have changed direction, and I am where I never thought I would be in this lifetime. There's an emptiness inside, an unending mire of cobwebs that has kept me both filled and empty, both dead and alive. The webs encase me as if protecting the dignity and memories of an abandoned cathedral that has seen better days.
It's a miracle that I'm still fighting to remain loving after all the pain, disappointment and losses that found me. But heartbreak reminded me that I am still human, that I can still be soft, graceful, loving and that I am still deserving of goodness. I am hopeful that the future will be better than this moment and I am doing everything not to disappear into obscurity with regret as my companion.
The vision I see of my older self is of a woman who has learned to live with a kind of missing so deeply rooted it's part of her. But she wears it like precious jewels. I wonder if I'll still be waiting for him to come for me. Will I always wear his absence in my eyes like the silk scarf around my neck? I wonder if I'll carry the way he looks at me to my grave.
It was watching myself die in a dirty room holding onto a past that forced me to do something with my life besides waiting for a ghost that may choose to stay dead. For the longest time, I waited to ask the one fucking embarrassing question that has kept me a prisoner with my heart in chains, and only his answer could save me, "Did you ever love me?"
I am learning to live without his answer, trying to move my limbs like an infant learning to walk. I am slow, my steps are wobbly and sometimes I fall, but every day I stand back up and try again.
Thus far, my attempts to give my heart to anyone else has been an absolute failure. Men have tried loving me, offering their hearts, hugs, kisses and a better life than I've been living, and I have stood like a rock, unable to explain that my heart has simply stopped feeling anything except a longing that refuse to go away. These moments leave me vulnerable feeling like a foolish, love-sick, sentimental woman who has lost control of her senses.
But then I pull myself together and try to move forward again even if the love I feel is redirected into making money and doing good with my life. That THING that happened to me in 2017 did nothing but lit a fire in me to take back EVERTHING that was taken from me.
The mission was always mine to complete, the book was always mine to write, the movie was always meant to tell my story, the EMPIRE was always mine to build, and time was always meant to know and remember my name.
As for love, I remain hopeful that one day a man will come along whose touch will warm this cold heart, and who will make we want to wrap my legs around his waist, look into his eyes and bring him home.
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