Away from her is when you feel her the most.
You do not know how this is true, but when we are confused, the only thing left to do is find a way to understand.
So you looked for her; in drainpipes, in places that shined too brightly from the insides, in quiet dinners, in all the street corners that smelled like the flowers sitting on her front porch, and in the end, you feel so much smaller compared to how heavy the world has always been, even from it's beginning.
How could anyone grow while living on a place that does not realize how vital change is?
From the moment you came to being, from the moment you experienced so much light and hands and whispers and beauty for the first time that all you could do was cry as hard as possible, the wind has been pushing against your feet, trying to sing in all the places that cannot hear.
We see the still surface of a lake, or the deep **** of the ocean, and we know it is ok to jump in, and we know we can not be in it forever, and I believe you to be my favorite body of water.
We know that all the things that had a beginning, no matter their importance, no matter their size, nor their texture, all have an ending.
If there was no ending, life would have nothing else to offer.
I am writing this to you with my Mother's favorite pen, I hope you can feel the gentleness in everything you read from now on.
The world is a constant apology, when we tried to learn about our nature, we confused giving and trusting, and we never realized it. A year later I'm learning about true forgiveness, the type that doesn't ask for anything, the type you had when you were still a child.
You were singing to me and I was peeling apples and I realized that the only thing we really end up missing the most is ourselves.