One last look behind

I am so filled with life right now. No words could really do justice. It can get tiring to always look over hills and bumps. And also up from the well. I’ve looked down a few times, but right now, now as I type this, the horizon is so fucking clear and inviting, I’m still unsure if it’s a mirage or too much visualisation. So many things to do. A new life to organize, to invent, to live.

Since August 2005, I’ve been looking at myself, what I’ve done, what I’ve been. Things I’ve let go and others I’ve held on for too long. Ghosts are still hovering. I know chances are I will fuck up once in a while. I’ve been in distress, through depression, heartache, overpowering sadness and many, many times, hopelessness.

I’ve also learned to be a better person, less judgemental, less angry. Bitterness has evaporated. I’ve let love touch me, something I always denied myself. Love, in all its forms.

Suddenly, I can listen to Nick Drake and Edith Piaf and appreciate it. I don’t feel like dying anymore. I can now believe it’s possible to love a friend, a child, a man so much it can inspire a song. It can put colors in my cheeks. I can tell you I love you Love-Soeur and not feel ashamed for even feeling it. Tell my children many times a day, instead of once in a while.

It’s hard to even imagine living alone. I’ve been living with this man since I was 17. Alone. And yet I have no fear. I realize how big the loss is. How much things will change. The phone will not be ringing as much, the sounds will be different. At some point I thought my universe would just shrink to me and my very small family. But because I’ve changed, because I’ve met extraordinary souls, I know that my universe will only expand.

And you… The passerby, the occasional visitor, the dedicated reader, the loving friend, are very much a part of it. For reading, for commenting, for never ever having judged me. And for the wonderful words you lay upon your own part of the universe.

Transition is almost over. Colors are coming, just like spring, right around the corner, as I pull my tongue out and catch the last snowflakes of this very long winter.