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Time Heals All Wounds


So I died many times that year. In the cold, in the storm, on the run or on the drunk for my heart did not want to beat but kept on beating anyway, 
and my pain was as real as real can be,
and I tried to learn and deal and run and feel,
but nothing really worked.
I built a comfortable home in my sorrow and settled into a quiet living. No sparks or grand gestures, just a simple daily hymn to comfort. The leaves fell off the trees and coloured this city in all kinds of pretty, and some days that was enough to make me smile at least a little bit, within.
I can’t quite recall how, when or why, but the passage of time really does heal what seems impossible to heal. The daily task of getting by adds up to weeks and months, and you will find yourself a little more at ease one day, some days, if you just keep going. Keep doing, keep being. One day, when the spring wakes up and the air is crisp, you will catch yourself smiling, thinking “that felt good,” and you will laugh again, suddenly more often than not, and one day, though far from here, you will say things like “grateful” and “content”, and maybe even “happy”.
I think it’s something in the letting go. How I simply stopped aiming at that point at the end of the finger and took a step back. We’re striving and thriving, always wanting something more, but take a short second and just look around you. All the wonderful things you actually already have, and are, and see — right now.
I let my eyes see what was simply in front of me, instead of trying to find that spot somewhere far away, where I thought I should be. There was the sun, there was the city, the people, and in the middle: me. Still here. Still doing. Still okay. My point is: You still are. I still am. So we’re doing just fine.

Sometimes, there is no other salvation than to just keep doing. Sometimes, the only trick is to simply keep breathing. And with the small amount of wisdom I hold today: I promise you, one day you will thank yourself for simply holding on. One day, though far from here, you will find yourself walking lightly and sure and fine again, despite of it all. And one day, though far from here, you will catch yourself saying things like “happy” and “how nice,” despite of it all. One day, you will meet someone again who will make your heart beat in all kinds of weird rhythms. And one day, you will have strength enough to go to new places, learn new words and understand new opinions, again, and that day you will thank yourself for simply holding on. You want to still be here for that day.


It was April and the sun stood high and I was thinking things like “exciting” and “lovely,” despite of it all. I didn’t throw thoughts back to all things past, like I always thought I would be, from now on, and the months to come would be the discovery of the world all over again. The discovery of me, of how much this heart of mine is capable to be and feel and love and grow, and dear me;
dear, tired little heart,
thank you. Thank you for holding on.
I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world.

// Spoken word piece from my book  Another Vagabond Lost To Love ♡

You can read more about the book here >>>

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