Saving Grace.

Here's the thing about self-love.
It is absolutely crucial to our soul. It is the only thing that matters. It lets us live. Self-love is what saves us from the monsters we turn into when our inner demons take over who we are-or at least who we think we are.

When you find yourself on a bathroom floor, numb from your favorite flavor of tear-stained whiskey, 3 am, with nothing but questions burning themselves into your brain...
...wondering who you are?
what the future holds for you?
where your life is going?
All these questions slowly eating away your will to survive; your will to live.
Nobody's going to be there for you. Nobody is going to hold you.

Nobody but you.

As you sit in the bathtub filled with ice cold water and scrub away at your skin, hoping to erase the feel of his hands, the stench of him all over your body, the marks of bliss he inked you with, remember this: No one can damage you the way you can damage you. No one can break you the way you can break you. So breathe.

Close your eyes and breathe. No one can save you, but you.

Self love is beautiful. It allows us to come to terms with the fact that however bruised, battered or scarred we are, we are worthy. We are capable of love and happiness. We are capable of giving it as much as we are of receiving it.
We are capable of being our own northern stars. Of shinning with the brightness of a million suns dancing together. We may not see the road ahead now, but as long as we believe we are capable, we have the potential to be whoever our hearts desire us to be.
We are worthy of one day finding a love so strong and so passionate, that it consumes us. We are capable- flaws and broken parts and all- of finding a happiness so sacred it hushes our demons, and calms our frightening fears.
We are capable of living, no matter how terrifying that might be. 

But not before we allow the love that resides within us to take over.
After all, how can you expect another soul to love yours, when you yourself despise it?

That's the thing about Self-love. Its all that matters. It allows us to live.
It is our saving grace. 

 

Life Is A Funny Thing.

I went to the 9/11 memorial plaza today.
And I wept.
I wept for all the people I didn't know.
I wept for Todd Russell Hill, who'd left the house on that fateful morning not knowing that he would never see home again.
I wept, despite the fact that I was 5 when it happened and I had no idea why mama was staring at the TV screen crying, watching in disbelief as the plane collided with the second tower leading it to crumble on live television, while dada made frantic calls to our family here.
I wept because none of the victim's family members deserved the wretched horror and grief that comes with losing a loved one.
Or a hole as big and wide as the north and south pool with all the names of the lives lost, constructed where the buildings fell.
I wept because none of these thousands of names engraved in stone, like the memory of that day in our souls forever, deserved what they got.
I wept because I didn't know what else to do. I wanted to do something. I needed to do something.
But apart from staring into the black hole in the middle of the pool wondering where  it lead, I could do nothing else.
So I let my tears join the water that flowed with the souls of all those thousand innocent lives.
I'm not American.
I didn't lose anyone to the falling of the Twin Towers.
But I wept.
Because human beings. People. Loved ones...they all died that day.
And they still haunt what is now a memorial site for tourists to take pictures and say that this was where all faith in humanity was broken.

Life is peculiar isn't it? Not knowing whether you'll see the crack of dawn, or the sun as it sets. It's marvelous, to live everyday like it's your last, because truly you won't live the same day again. You won't love the same way, or the same person again. You won't believe the same stories retold again.
YOU will never be the same person you were the previous day.

It is marvelous, yes. But oh so haunting.

Smile. Laugh. Love. Do it all while you still can. 
Make every day count.

It might very well be your last.