29 años. Soñadora. Creativa. Parlanchina. (makeiri) wrote,
29 años. Soñadora. Creativa. Parlanchina.

And she heard...

When I was first told the news, I admit part of me wanted to pretend I had heard nothing, to pretend that there was nothing or no one that could make me realize the news were real.

And yet, I knew I had to confront that which as in front of me, that I had to be there.

That everything happens for a reason, and that I just had to flow with the situation and not try to push it away.

After all, why am I going to use my energy in trying to be denial? I know better than that.

Being able to look into his eyes, and see that he had long been expecting something like this caused me a tad bit of pain.

But it was pain for myself. Pain of me feeling vulnerable of maybe, just maybe, having to let go.

And you know what he said to me?
He told me had long been expecting me to do something. To act as myself. He told me had always wished for me to find my one true self, and that he knew I knew myself.

(Even if times I pretended I didn't)

His twisted smile (something between a smirk and a frown) made me stop and realize that I was not the one being the pillar of strength here, but the one being held.

"The wings are made to fly. Use them."

These parting words, from a man I have known ever since I was but a small child made me realize that I was doing things the hard way.

I vow now, to myself, to make honor of my wings and to use them to take flight and to explore new lands and new skies.

I was the one in a cage, and I had set the lock on the cage myself.

Time to open the cage up. I am tired of pretending to be a hamster when, being a beautiful bird with the potential of flying away, am not doing so.

I heard.

I learned.

I am expanding my wings...

I will use my wings.

I promise...
Tags: escritos, myself
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