go running into pain if you dare!

I remember having strong feelings for someone; they were so overwhelming and powerful. I lacked the means to express and deal with the feelings I was experiencing. I thought I was the only one going through them.

Fear took over; I was afraid of showing how I was feeling because opening meant showing a soft side, and I was afraid they would abandon me if I showed signs of weakness, so I kept my feelings hidden from both him and myself, hoping they'd see I was strong enough, but it wasn't enough. Imagine if a flower never opened its petals for fear of falling, unaware that falling to the ground marks the start of a new cycle of death and rebirth.

In the end, I left him, and my heart still beats to the drums of his name. Months spent crying inside. Still holding that belief, never expressing pain. What was this?was born in the wild and learned to walk shortly after birth so that I could flee any approaching dangers?

The truth is, even though he wasn't mine, I was missing him and couldn't handle the fact that I was still his. Before someone forced me to examine myself, I was in a weird place, merely doing something to dull this unpleasant sensation. more profoundly. The seed of doubt they sowed was odd coming from them. I felt pressured to accompany myself.

 I started to question my own feelings and the choices I had made, wondering if I was truly being authentic or simply following a path laid out by others. Each day became a struggle between the desire for connection and the need for independence, leaving me in a constant state of turmoil.

I snapped open and allowed myself to feel, and it all happened so quickly that I lost touch with the present moment for a second, and no one was holding a mirror for me to hold on to at the time I was gazing within, and what I saw was a shadow of what appeared to be myself, a more alive version of my emotions. Stories I packed away, never to be seen again.

This was difficult for me to see at first. I was still kicking and screaming, and it felt like I was underwater with a fast-moving current in the depths of the deep dark blue sea, and keep in mind that I am terrified of depth in all its forms. As I struggled against the waves of my emotions, I realized that I needed to learn how to navigate these turbulent waters instead of fighting them. Slowly, the realization dawned on me that embracing my fears could lead to a greater understanding of myself and the world around me.

For the first time in my life, I paused, slowed down, and opened my eyes within; it was the sensation of riding a roller coaster and  feeling  your gut turn inside out. was engulfed in flames, with no one to put it out. It is just me, myself, and I—mind, body, and spirit. I'm whole in the most fragmented way. In that moment of chaos, I discovered a strange clarity, a deep understanding of my own resilience. Embracing the fire, I realized it could either consume me or forge me anew, and I chose to rise from the ashes.

I now see the mind as a container with holes in it that is leaking the liquid within, and I can't figure out how to mend the holes or fix the container. It's pointless, so you widen the holes to see where the liquid is flowing. You discover a whole universe with its own ecosystem, and now you're just catching up with the aspects of yourself that are already blossoming from letting go.

When you get there, you realize that pain was a form of communication with you. By revealing the leak that led to the foundation of your heart, you were forced to walk through hellfires in order to break free from the bonds of your mind. And you were both the prisoner and the warden, playing the roles of victim and security guard at the same time. It was a tumultuous journey, but through the flames, you discovered resilience within yourself that you never knew existed. Each step forward became a testament to your strength, transforming the anguish into a powerful catalyst for growth and self-discovery.