What’s left?

Once in a while I need to go back to the forest. The mountains. Breathe the non-city air. Explore the unfamiliar. Not know exactly where I am.

If there’s anything that guides me through my life, it’s the need for freedom. I like structure, I like discipline, I like routine even. But I have to feel like I can pack up a few things and leave if it’s not what I want. If my growth has stopped. If I’m not appreciated. If I don’t feel welcome. If I did all I can possibly do there. Let’s face it- I’m grown lol. I feel comfortable in solitude. So the people dearest to me are there because I want them to be, because they are amazing human beings and because they add to my life and I to theirs. Forced relationships are a strain on the soul. And when they end, they don’t end- not for a while. They pop into the mind for months…. moments, thoughts, arguments, rebuttals, what if’s and why not’s. And I wonder how long will it take to unpack all this shit. How much longer? Why is it still here? Why am I still so angry and hurt….

But I can’t bury it, or disguise it, or forget it. Not for long anyway. So I unpack. Thought by thought, memory by memory, I think (or feel or hear or taste or smell) and let it go and hope it’s for good. I hope I can start making room, not even for someone else but for myself. After all, I love solitude.

Oh I’m such a dramatic soul. Thank God for art.

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Copyright Scarlet Monk 2018