ScribeMeister

The first time you learn that nothing is what it seems. That all the choices you made are wrong, that it is not what they say it will be, is not like in the movies or the books. Reality bites. Ignore your assumptions. Don't trust anything. What you see, what you hear, what people tell you, what you think you remember, let the experience wash over you. Absorb it like a sponge. Expect nothing. Only then can you be prepared for anything. Your body is not who you are. You shed it like a snake sheds its skin. Leave it forgotten, behind you. When you wake up, the world is not how it was. And neither would you. You had forgotten what it was like before you met him. You want to remember. And maybe make some semblance of what you had left when she was gone. Peace is an illusion. And no matter how tranquil the world seems, peace doesn't last long. Peace is a struggle against our very nature. A skin we stretch over the bone, muscle, and sinew of our innate savery. Losing her was everything. The emptiness. The finality of it. Focus on what you care about in this world with every atom of your existence. Rip yourself open. That is how you get back to reality. When I met him, he owned me, my very being, my heart, my everything. No matter how long you live, you never finish. You have to learn to let the world continue. Accept that death is part of life. When everyone lies, telling the truth isn't just rebellion. So think carefully when you speak it because the truth is a weapon. This is my new reality now. My new skin is now my own, my heart is not the same, but it will heal, it will survive. Everything is not the same; there are still chapters that need to be written or recorded. The future is a mystery. Somehow, I feel less lonely, that there is something I can look forward to, a new adventure—a new page to my book of life.