i started seeing the stars brighter when you left. started seeing myself
brighter. before, all i could see was
y o u .
i could barely see myself. my soul was starving and my heart worn,
falling into bed every night without taking time to change the sheets.
i hate to admit it, but i think i forgot how to be myself once i had you.
maybe it was the timing, and maybe i was just divided—my feet in
two doorways, leaving one place and entering another. i was stuck
in the hallway with starch-white walls and no light. and i ignored
it because i could, because i had you to distract me. but now i can’t
avoid it. i look at my life now and see it as cold, hard clay, aching
for my hands to turn it into something beautiful, something with
meaning. everything is falling, and i’m surrounded by empty water,
but i feel like i’m being reborn. i forgot how to look at the world
through my rose-colored glasses; lost them in my mother’s house
and settled for grey. that isn’t me. maybe i was too crowded by
rosebushes smothering me from seeing any sort of sunlight, but now
the soil is clear and all i can do is let the sun touch me until i turn into
something just as beautiful alone.
from my book, 'please don't go before i get better'
read here: http://bit.ly/pdgbigb