Show No Weakness. Feel All Strength.
The Memorial Service That Never Happened
I trusted you the moment you invited me to euphoria. The moment you held me above you, I swore I was flying.
What I often forget is that trust is more than just a word with five letters, and one syllable.
Trust is not as easy as it sounds. Trust was not as easy as you made it feel.
Trust was alive; she was living and breathing the same air as you and I.
She comes and goes. She is strict, never a rule breaker, but she is easily broken.
And so the first act began.
It started smooth. Nothing jaw dropping, heavy, or emotionally controlling. Simple pirouettes, grand jetés, glissades, and pas de chats; our feet always landing where they were supposed to. Trust was just the choreographer
Halfway through,trust started getting more deep and intense. Your moves became sharper. Trust knew something was off, but I didn't mind.
We began the final dance. The piano played a complex chord progression. We sashayed in preparation
My arms lifted above my head, I raised my face toward the light, my toes pointed the second they left the ground. I soared. No one caught me. I crashed. Trust went through the ground, and the rest of my body followed like a needle pricking it's victim.
I was buried so far below the ground, I could see no light. The last thing I heard was an exhale from Trust before she vanished. She left as quickly as she came.
I spent a lot of time buried beneath the ground. I lived below the surface. I knew every scream for help would only end up giving me a mouth full of dirt. Not once did I dream of escaping.
You let me fall. You lifted me higher, and watched me plummet. You left me to attend my own memorial service. You wanted me gone. But I wasn't going anywhere.
I learned how to grow when you buried me. I learned what it meant to be stronger. I learned what it took to become my own.
I used tears as rain drops to water my roots. I used my own hands to dig through the dirt until I reached the surface, and felt the healthy emerald grass beneath my fingertips.
I breathed in the warm air's breeze. I lifted my chin, and as the sun hit my face, I opened my eyes for the first time in what felt like centuries. I planted my seeds with every footstep, and watched as the flowers grew the second my toes left the ground.
I knew you were no where to be found.
But I'm no longer looking.
