Messages To Her

​I am staring right up into the night sky, trying so hard to swallow the pain. Bury it, ignore it, avoid it at all costs. I was never good at hiding what I felt; I used to face it head-on, even if it meant being called weak or told, “she’s on the feels with me.” Back then, it didn't matter. I knew that feeling everything would make me free, molding me into someone strong and wise.

​And yet, I’ve grown used to hiding. Maybe I’m fooling myself—“you kid yourself, Luh.” I run from the wreckage and feed only on what keeps me moving. You might ask how that's possible. I am happy, and someone else has a part in that, too. I refuse to be held down by wishful thinking or the distance my broken heart could take me. If I’m being selfish by choosing happiness for a change, then forgive me. I deserve this, don't I?

​Give me love; I’m craving it. Self, you owe me that. At this stage, it feels like falling in love for the first time. Parts of me were built around the cold, and I’m doing everything to warm myself back up. I missed a place that used to be home, but I had to become cold toward it just to breathe. Just to live. And I’m living alright! I see happiness taking over. Would you hate me if I said I am finally happy?

​Forget the terms that happiness came with. I had to do it for us. Dear self, please understand. If you do, I won’t fear explaining myself to those who feel entitled to an answer. The only pain I’ll allow is if you deny me this new feeling. I love you, I’ve loved you all along, and it starves me when I don't see you smile. I’d give anything for us. So, I forgive you for being far away for so long. Raise your head, dust your shoulders; you deserve the good. Don’t let anyone tell you different.

Illustration created for colourfulheart.