I'll Be Alright

 A bomb was thrown at me and hit right in the centre of my chest. There is fire and gravy and confetti all over the wind strewn catacombs of my heart. Because ‘what cannot be said will be wept,’ and my eyes refuse to dry. I’m not alright. All I ever wanted for the last three years was to leave this war torn heavy place far in my rear-view, so why does it hurt so much to say goodbye? I’m not even gone yet and my heart refuses to stay where I can see it. It’s off far away and ready to begin anew. 

But we’re still here, still here in this place that’s the home I’ve known the longest and yet has never felt like home. And yet only in these last few weeks has this felt real, has it felt like maybe this has been home longer than I thought. 

And I made this choice,  it was to stay or to go and I said go. And here I am, ready and waiting to leave, but my heart has been saying goodbye for over a month and I just want it to be over. I’m done, I’m ready to be gone, but this hurts more than I ever thought possible because I’m brought back and back and back to moment when I said yes I’ll go. 

And this isn’t at all like I thought it would be. I thought I’d jump for joy and run with my arms in the air screaming, “Good Riddance!” Instead I’m crying into the sink while I wash my paint brushes noting that paint looks an awful lot like blood. 

And really it’s true I’m ready to leave and I know that when I step off the plane I get to run into the arms of someone who loves me well. But I have to leave the only place that’s ever treated me as an equal opponent. It was wrong of course, I was just a kid, but still I’ll miss this place more than I’d like to admit. Which in-an-of-its-self is an admittance of love. 

I never thought I’d love this place. Not enough to weep for it. And yet here I sit with only the will to spill my heart into words and hope it makes sense. 

I’m not ready to go. I have much I need to do and much I fear I never will, but I have to go. There is always a choice but sometimes once you’ve made it there’s no going back. There’s only forward and into the next. 

I’m more than excited to once again see my dear friend and it’s been much too long indeed. But the work it takes to get there is arduous and it hurts somewhere deep in my heart that I have longe since thought to be dead. And it’s hard to live with a heart that’s waking up. Because I’m not quite used to the weight and I’m not quite sure how it all fits here in my chest. 

But I’ll be alright, even if it takes some time, I’ll be alright.