I’m in the Starbucks at Vauxhall. I just ordered a small skinny decaf latte, which by many measures could be seen as a non-coffee coffee. Sia’s ‘Breathe Me‘ is playing, and it makes my heart want to explode in a million little tears. I feel as if I am holding myself together, keeping all the parts from falling apart, moving forward because I can not face what is back there, remembering that just because everything around me moves doesn’t mean that I am too.
There are times that I don’t feel enough while feeling too much. I feel I am not enough, good enough, handsome enough, with a good enough body or a good enough sense of self confidence. And then I feel too much, too many emotions trying to be processed, too many memories trying to be remembered, too many pains trying to stay forgotten, too much happiness and too much sadness colliding so violently that in the end they both feel the same, intense and scary. There is fear in happiness, there is the birth of something that could be lost, taken away, leaving a void that was not there before.
I am not trying to create a happy ending in this post. I am not trying to sugarcoat it. I feel there should not be a ‘but‘ in the end; but I know there is. Because I know that what I feel now is raw, and painful, and exhilarating, and primitive, and painful, but it is for the best, it teaches me how to be human, it shapes me, it breaks me, and it makes me. I feel like crying because I feel alive, and I feel like smiling because I feel alive. I feel, therefor I feel alive. And there is no journey more be difficult and more beautiful than this.
Everything will be ok in the end; if it is not ok, it is not the end.