Healing, the romanticized version

Everyone says healing is a beautiful process and I really want to put a middle finger up to everyone when they say that. I think it's ugly and lonely and a part of me aches at every reminder I get of a person that is currently missing from my life. I've never lied in my writing because this is the only part of me that is entirely unfiltered. I never have to lie on here because frankly, I don't care who reads this. This is for me before it is for anyone else. I think healing sucks and it's more so because it's like a truck hitting you straight in the face that change needs to happen.

In the past I've stayed in relationships that were long overdue for a breakup because I would have much rather cried next to that person, than to be alone and I'm not proud of myself for doing that. I hate that I let myself lose parts of myself for the sake of feeling love in whatever capacity it was delivered in.

This week, I romanticized healing without meaning to. I have been waking up earlier than usual and doing a morning detox of my phone so that I can be more present in my actions. Yesterday I ran out of one of the vitamins I take daily (calcium and magnesium) and without really thinking about it, I grabbed a new container of those vitamins during my grocery store run last night. This morning, I opened up the new container and I happened to pay attention to the label and realized that the very vitamins I take are for building strong bones (I knew what the benefits of the vitamins were but it was the moment of realization that was important). In this weird little moment, I realized that this whole time, I had been subconsciously taking these vitamins in order to do something for myself. I became very self-aware of the fact that this is a subconscious action I do every day and it's part of something that I do for myself, by myself. I then took a few minutes and thought, well, if this is something I do subconsciously for bettering myself, how many other actions do I partake in daily for that same purpose?

I go to the gym a lot more often, I buy myself flowers biweekly because I like to have fresh flowers, I specifically buy more healthy food and less junk, I read every night. It truly is romantic really how much we actually do put into ourselves and we don't even give it a second thought because we are so accustomed to focus on what is lacking, and not what is already there.

As much as I hate the idea of healing and zen shit, I am starting to recognize just how out of touch I was with my own feelings, actions and my own self-love. I always thought of myself as a strong, independent, amazing woman who really can do anything she puts her mind to, but now, more than ever, I am seeing me for how insanely good I am to myself in admitting and taking ownership of my faults, of becoming a better person for and with myself, and for just how honest and raw I can be when I feel like I am at the bottom of the ladder and preparing myself for the climb up.

I hate that I have something to heal from in the first place and that a special person was ripped from my life without notice and with so much fault of my own, but, I am learning every single day how to create and work on creating and maintaining a band-aid that will cover that bruise and in time let it all heal. That's progress.

When it rains, it pours

A memory that wasn’t so long ago,

The way it rained and poured on my soul.

I thought I’d never recover,

The dark clouds would constantly follow.

The flowers wilted, they didn’t last long.

The way it rained, grey skies just held on.

I looked up one day and I just said ‘stop’,

Enough of this, I need to move on.

A brief ray of sunshine made its way through the clouds,

Finally, I can start looking around.

I took out all the weeds, I got on my knees.

I’ll build this garden again, I do believe.

Within a few days, the sun soaked the rain.

The soil was ready, let’s start filling space.

With yellow I painted, a smile of tulips.

With red I cautioned, thorns of roses.

Before I knew it, I was surrounded by flowers,

Each one, more beautiful than the other.

A visitor one day, came to admire.

The hard work put in, his longing desire.

He offered his help, just in the garden.

How could I say no?

A story unravelled.

Unrequited

They’re empty,

The words you speak.

I miss you, you’re all I need.

I love you, I wish you were here.

How many times will that be said,

Until you pick up and leave?

Do you love me? Do you really?

Or is this but words?

I wish I knew, truly.