I wrote this last night and deleted it soon after because I got overly self-conscious about it, but apparently my LJ feed picked it up anyway, so everybody getting my feed via LJ read it anway. Jackie thinks it’s one of my better posts, so shit, since LJ’s already seen it, I’ll put it back up:
‘People are often lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.’ –Anonymous
One of the gifts of nearly dying, of continually living at the edge of dying, has been this incredible realization of just how fleeting and precious life really is, of how easily it slips away.
I know what dying feels like: you go to sleep. It goes dark. Everything stops.
Everything just stops.
The journey I’ve been on now, this life I’m living now, this is all borrowed time; it feels stolen, and ever so precious. It means I appreciate the people in my life more. I love more. I take more risks, because I realize that sometimes, we don’t have the time for second chances.
I’m even more adament about following my heart, my passion, my bliss. But more than that, I am learning all about the stuff that isn’t “me” and “mine.”
I spent a lot of time trying to protect myself from everything, trying not to get hurt, because I was so screwed over in my first relationship, because I became a person I didn’t like. I ran all around the world and proved I was strong and independent. I thought I had proved that I didn’t need anyone or anything. I had a grand merry fucking time, and I still plan on hopping all around the world, but the stuff I was looking for, that hole in my heart, that was always still there. I just got better at pretending that that’s how life was supposed to be, walking around with pieces of yourself missing.
I have learned bravery. I’ve learned to love people only as much as they will let me, and I’ve learned to pursue what I am passionate about. And I have learned so much compassion. I am learning so much compassion. Because when you have been so scared, so lonely, so full of fear, you understand that craziness in others, that desperate grasping for something stable and solid in a crazy fucking world.
You learn patience.
Because life is big and loud and precious, yes, but it’s also really terrifying and really hard.
But trust me – it’s all a lot better than death. Better than dying with a hole in your heart.
That’s what I want to make of my life now, the person I want to be. I want to let people back in. There is risk, yes, but the potential reward? The full life? Living it out as a whole person?
Totally worth the journey, even if you never get there.
We have only this life. This is what we’ve got. And it’s always shorter than you imagined, there at the end.
“May you live as long as you wish and love as long as you live.”