I finished running yesterday morning around 5:30 or so, I was tired and my mind was pretty tried and strained by the events in the past week.
I-ve been having problems eating lately, I-m not really hungry and I forget to eat, in the morning I just much down two pieces of toast and drink a black coffee and I don-t eat until later in the evening, if I remember I need to or if I feel weak. I have constant nightmares, so lately I preferred sleeping by day. I am normally so tired by the afternoon I fall asleep easily and don-t dream, and even if I dream, they-re not bad dreams, just flashes of images and actions I don-t even remember.
I ran slowly yesterday, feeling tired while my mind was wandering around and about.
In the past week I told my mother numerous times: calm down. It-s gonna be fine, I know it will. I don-t remember a time when I had to repeat it to her like this. I look back to the past years and realize how much I-ve grown and just through how much I went through.
I am proud in a way and I see no reason why not to be.
I have become selfish and I don-t mind it. In the past I was humble and didn-t do a lot of things, gave myself to the others to see that I care for them and they found it strange, keeping myself back for one reason or another and always found a way around excuses, people didn-t see me and I thought I was simply nothing, it as easy and uncomplicated and I only realized how complicated it actually was later on.
But I-m not afraid to be proud anymore. I-m not afraid to be loud and obnoxious and I have no fear in putting my foot down saying: you-ll never find anyone better for this or that, than me. I can do this.
I haven-t found happiness and deep down inside I hurt more than anyone will ever know but I am slowly finding myself and I found out the truth behind the expression of blood sweat and tears and I cherish the moment I found it, while walking down in Piccadilly Circus in London, through the crowds, in some cold late winter day.
To maintain a constant, that-s all I want, always to feel this inside, this balance, and with everything that happened and is happening to me I see that I am on my way there. True, at times I feel like breaking but I don-t and it-s nothing like those times years ago when there was no constant, just endless fluctuations, up down, left and right and all around. But things are more clear now and every time I fall, I dust myself off and try again. And I try again and again and again and I surface and take over, stomp on it and move along.
I used to believe one has to follow a certain path in its life. It-s black or white, heroes never stray, they never become tainted and they are just like they-re supposed to be from start to finish.
You stomp and you stumble and you realize you-re no hero, even if this is your story. I mean, you are the hero of it, but not quite like you imagined.
I don-t know the right words to explain it I suppose.
I haven-t found happiness , but there is life.
I was walking back after my run, stretching my muscles and it was cold and the streets were empty. Just me and the neon lights, the sound of some car passing by, the never ending love story between me and the concrete streets.
The air was clean and crisp, chilled you to the bone, and Shinee-s Replay was on repeat in my headphones.
One step ahead, another one behind, spin, hips, hands. I smiled and slightly sang along. Walked a bit, then repeated the same dance steps in a slightly different manner. I didn-t care if anyone was watching, it felt right in that moment, my heart was just demanding it so I just ended up dancing in the street like that.
I don-t know why, and I don-t care, it just felt alive, and free.
B.
