“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart; I am, I am, I am.”
I don’t think I have ever felt more myself. And no, I’m not saying I completely know myself yet, but I feel like I get a second chance. A second wind. I think I’m going to be 70 years old and still having realisations about the person that I was, am and will be.
I feel like it’s taken me an attempt at dying to want to live. And that scares a lot of people. Holy shit, it scared me. It scares me everyday. Talking about it makes me cry. Thinking about it makes me grateful. I am grateful that I wasn’t successful. That words and actions came my way and lifted me up. That I made a choice. The right choice.
I now see myself as a person. As a human being. Capable of so much more than sadness. I’m not a ghost anymore, and my feelings take root instead of floating away. That my decisions and thoughts matter and are valid and can be said out loud if I want them to be.
I’ve realised that I’m not here for very long. No one is in the scheme of existence. That things people have said and done will go away in a little while. That I can’t spend my hours and days and years scared of existing, because what is there to be scared of? I don’t want to waste time but I also don’t want to rush. I want to take it slow and feel every second of it.
I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason. Maybe I am here for a reason, I just haven’t found it yet. Maybe you never find it yourself. Maybe it’s there for other people to discover. Maybe it’s the moment that ‘flashes before your eyes’ as you die.
Whenever I feel lost, and looking for reason, I listen to my heartbeat. It reminds me I am here. I am alive. There are so many beats been and gone. And some still to come.