I feel most safe when I feel most loved
And I was lucky to feel both
consistently for two months.
Being away from home didn’t mean
I was away from love,
but that distance
gave me the opportunity to really realize
the truth about most things.
You see, it’s an instinct to be lonely,
to feel like I don’t matter.
I don’t have many friends anymore
and those I do have I’ve held onto
because they are the reflections of myself I long to see.
And what I’ve learned is that time doesn’t heal every wound. Not when
wounds are places you’d rather forget and people you are sick of being.
No, it isn’t time alone.
It’s patience and acceptance, a mix of
hope and laughter and awareness.
It’s a lot of energy spent on undoing each intricate lie you’ve ever told yourself.
It’s forgiveness and strength and an outpour of love for everyone you’ve ever known.
It’s detachment and perspective and hindsight.
It’s about knowing that you still have a long way to go.
Time is just there, along for ride.

I feel safe when I feel most loved.
I feel loved when I feel most safe.
Maybe I am both of these things.
Maybe you are, too.