It’s like a dark cloud lifting.

I’m not sure where to begin. The last few months have been full of events, of emotional turmoil, and of other things too, but mostly I think the second. Up and down, like some insane roller coaster. It’s difficult to articulate, but no where near as bad as the deep depression I found myself stuck in when my ex-husband left… God, almost four years ago now. Funny how time flies when you’re not watching it.

Maybe the place to begin is with a simple statement that becomes so telling about who the people we deal with are. “You won’t want to hang out with me when you start dating again.” It’s been roaming around my mind for the past week because in reality it translates to something a little different. It parses out the truth of a person, that they want to shed the past in favor of some unknown future when the past has made them who they are. But even that’s not all of it. It goes deeper, places the blame on someone else, makes it sound like it’s all right to let a relationship completely die because, the other person would have done the same.

Except, I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t simply walk away, desert a person because of something new entering my life. I’m the girl who lets people create their own graves. I’m the girl who wants so much to hate the people who hurt me, but in the end, it’s just internalized pain, hope and longing and I can’t bring myself to unleash that sort of negativity on the world. My optimism refuses to die no matter how many times I’ve been shown that it’s a horrible plan to expect the best from people. They tend to give you their worst.

And even in those moments, I know there’s something wonderful waiting for me if I just hold on a little bit longer. If I keep working on my writing and find myself again. If I start the projects roaming around my mind. If I start drawing again. So many ifs, but they all add up to the future. One that will be better than anything I’ve imagined thus far.

Maybe I give too much of myself to the people I love. I let them in behind the finely crafted walls to see the unbalanced hinges that hold my mind together. I teeter on the edge of sanity, the edge of chaos, the only thing holding me in place is some code I created for myself and I follow it no matter what. I am a person of my word because I recognize the power they have over the whole of creation. They are the magic that holds our world together, a distinct magic that most people abuse and treat like it’s worthless.

I am words, and magic. I’m emotion, upset and bordering on mild depression. I’m energy and creativity. More importantly, I am honorable. So, perhaps this was what I needed to write, to get out. To put in the open and exile from my mind. That sentence and the ominous tones it holds, the truth of who I am and what I want to world to be. I do believe in magic, even when the rest of the world refuses to see and I think I can manage to be patient for a little while longer.

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