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Description
Another moment without answers is another moment without this mystery being solved. My words tied up in knots, letters in the wrong place in the wrong word. Calling me crazy, annoying, ugly, I'm starting to let go of caring what people say.
Accepting what you are couldn't be more difficult than a human attempting fly.
My confusion is who I am. My prejudgement is my precaution. My approach to humans is an approach with cautious eyes. The twilight is where I find my inner peace, that's where I find myself. And when I found my darkness and my light, I've realized how my life is so precious and that in every minute there are seconds and in those seconds...I'm being watched by an angel. An angel that accepts you.
I've talked to my angel. I asked him for guidance. He said to me, to love you must give, but to give you must learn to love, and to love you must learn to give. But, most important, you must learn to love and give to yourself first. I didn't understand him at first, but later on I tried to follow his words - to love and give to myself.
One morning -
I looked in the mirror. I hated what I saw. My hair was over my eyes, covering most of my face. Black eyeliner circling around my golden brown eyes that looked broken and tired. My lips were dry, my tongue trying to hydrate it - I couldn't speak, just tears felt my cheeks and spoke my sorrow.
My eyes followed down my chest to my stomach where my hands laid. My body so pale and cold. It wasn't that I came from a shower...it was the lack of love to myself. The pale skin cracked with hatred. The pale skin froze with ice.
Then, something I've never done, I pulled my hair back. I took my two torn palms and combed my hair back. I saw my face. The eyes, the lips, the nose, everything...mine. And now I thought of life; you only have one to enjoy and experience. So why am I hiding behind the black sheild of my hair? Why am I so ashamed of a body that was a work of passion by my mother? Why even ask these questions in the first place?
Second -
I took a walk in the snowy blizzard - weather, I thought. The weather, a moodshifter, as I. The weather, emotional, as I. The weather, cold and warm, as I. The weather, confusing, as I. The weather, me. Do people accept the weather? Not always. Do people accept me? Not always. Do I accept the weather? Yes...yes, I do. It's beautiful, unexpectable. Amazing.
So if I am weather, am I those things?
I returned home and talked to my angel. He looked joyful and more happy than usual. He asked me kindly if I now knew what he meant the previous time we had chated. I told him yes. I told him how I would enjoy life more and accept things more. I told him how I wish I never doubted my inner and outer beauty. I told him how I now loved the person I. I thanked him. I expected him to say something back, but he smiled and gradually faded into the background disappearing with only his shine to remember.