February 23rd, 2014: M and I broke up.

My heart fucking hurts. There's this built up pressure inside and it feels like it wants to explode but can't, it's trying to contain itself within these fleshy walls. It's a power struggle between the walls that are trying to contain this explosion and this explosion itself. Who knew hearts were capable of this...

Tonight is the worst night so far.

There have been other nights where waves of emotion would come crashing down, and I'd tumble under, get lost in the somersaults of feeling, of these crashing waves, but I'd find my way back to the surface, and inhale a fresh breath of air. Tonight is different. I'm tumbling for longer, and I'm running out of breath. My breath, my being, the thing that keeps me alive and well.

I'm not well.

And I accept that. That's okay. It's okay to not be well. We can't all be well all the time. It's never about how we fall, it's always about how we get back up again. At least that's what they say. That sounds good enough to me. I know I'll come out of this, find my way to the sun and light, out of the dark abyss that is this sea. I'll get my sense of direction back when the momentum of this wave passes, I'll stop tumbling, and I'll swim, up and up, to fill my lungs with a huge gulp of that fresh air, and prepare for the next wave and the next... the constant influx of waves that will come at me again, and again, and again, in this life and the next.

Alone, Together

On Nakedness

On Nakedness