“Sunny held Kit, and Violet held Klaus, and for a minute the four castaways did nothing but weep, letting their tears run down their faces and into the sea, which some have said is nothing but a library of all tears in history.”
A Series of Unfortunate Events: The End
I will chase down every setting sun
in your name, in your memory.
And with the rising ambience
of a winter morning’s sun
we will reunite once again.
Perhaps we’re not afraid of death
But of our own name plucked from the air
Of the silence that surrounds a thing
That’s just no longer there.
For we never really know
The lifespan of a single sound,
How many years after a body stops
A name will stick around.
Perhaps it stretches generations
Echoes one last time, then never,
Until the space it filled’s replaced
By its unknown loss forever.
Or maybe there’s another way
It lives after we fade,
It’s why we write our names’ on books we own
And all we’ve ever made.
It’s a sliver of remembrance
In a world prone to forget,
The taste of who we were
On lips of one we’ve never met.
The hope they’ll stumble on the stories
We have loved, worn down with age,
That there they’ll find what we had left:
Our name upon the cover page.
And for just that fleeting moment
It’s as though we’ve beaten death,
That in the whisper of those words
We have taken one more breath.
Who Would Remember
The past few years have been turbulent, both physically and mentally for myself and those around me; the constant rejection of the answers I was desperately looking for, the reluctance to be treated for whatever is going on inside me, and the anxiety surrounding being in pain everyday were painful to say in the least. However, with the news that the investigations into my health conditions have now come to an end, I’ve stopped hoping for a miracle, adopting a rather more realistic approach to dealing with the pain. I’ve made peace with the idea that I’ll have to treat these symptoms, potentially for the rest of my life, rather than having multiple doctors, surgeons and specialists poke me here and there, performing countless tests.
Those closest to me will know how much I despise pity and sympathy: my health is something I have yet to come to terms with (I know, I know, it’s been 4 years) so handling other’s reactions isn’t something that comes easily to me when I don’t really know how to handle it myself. However, the one thing I have always been grateful for, but now more so than ever, is the relentless support of my parents.
During my darkest hours, they shared my pain and agony. In 2013, they shared my fear of going under the knife for the first time in my life. But they put aside all their own emotions to support me, comfort me and encourage me. Many will comment on my bravery in suffering from a debilitating health issue, but I believe the bravest of them all are my parents, for being strong for me. I remember waking up from the general anaesthetic after my operation and hearing my mum sob because she couldn’t handle the sight of me being attached to wires, an oxygen mask, and tubes attached to me. This was the first time I’d heard her cry since I was diagnosed, and in many ways that was more painful than the actual agony of a gallbladder attack. As parents, there’s an assumption that you have to be strong for your children, and my parents exceeded that. I know for a fact that their support has helped me live through this, and without it, I don’t know where I’d be.
It’s time for me to stop thinking about how I’ll survive living with whatever I am going through, but rather focus on how I can live my life to the fullest with it. Perhaps I was justified in my selfishness regarding the whole thing – after all, it was my illness, something only I was experiencing. But in many ways, my pain is also my parents’ pain. I haven’t given them enough credit for helping me survive the worst days of my life. I owe them everything for helping me keep it together when I was at my lowest points. Their ability to see the light at the end of the tunnel when I’m blind to it myself is a gift they are blessed with.
So thank you both, for transforming me into the strong woman I am today. I am a survivor because of you. You love me even when I’m at my worst, and boy am I an absolute nightmare. Through your care and devotion, you have created a human being who is prepared to fight whatever life throws at her head on. You have given me the strength to survive my darkest hours, and it’s only your words which help me overcome them. Your strength and courage lives within me, and I am so proud to call you my parents. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I’ll be able to embrace it because of you.
A x
2016 has brought us a whirlwind of emotions. It’s felt like a bloody long year too!
From restarting my degree at the university of my dreams, to meeting some of the truly wonderful people I now hold dear to me, it’s been a crazy year that I wouldn’t change for the world. It’s also taught me how important it is to keep your loved ones close: to cherish every second you have with them, because life is far too unpredictable and we just cannot know when our time on this earth will be over.
Strangers have become best friends. Best friends have become family. Family ties have grown stronger (in some cases, mind!) 2016 has been a year of life lessons, too. I’ve learnt that people will come in and out of your life, but those who are supposed to be in it will come back to you eventually. Those who don’t come back, well, for the briefest moments, they were in your life for a reason. All we can do is learn from what they’ve taught us, and move on with what they’ve left behind. Life is too unpredictable to hold grudges and negativity against those we once cared for.
I look forward to a year of positivity ahead of me. As cliche as it sounds, I’m very much looking forward to leaving negativity behind me in 2016, and moving forward with those who stuck by me relentlessly this year, bringing me nothing but happiness and filling my life with love.
Happy 2017! Let’s make it a good one.
“In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.” – Unknown
A x
He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same…
Wuthering Heights
This life seems
so comparatively dull
when I look up at the night sky
and see your face in the stars.
Deep down, you understand me, you know I adore you. You are not only something that is mine, you are me myself.
“I would watch you burn over and over and over again just to see your sins scorch your skin for eternity.”
Closure, Part Two
Eventually soulmates meet, for they have the same hiding place.
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