Time heals our wounds

One day you will wake up and a wound that has always itched and that has always hurt – even if it was in a dull, almost imperceptible way, will have healed.

You will be surprised and it will be scary at first. You will try to get that feeling back – after all, it has been a part of you and your being for such a long time. But, let it go. You don’t need it anymore. And the hollow it left will be filled with something new. Something good.

This comes from a person who believed that wounds can be concealed but never healed. I woke up with a weight lifted off me. And I had the immediate desire to write it down. Because, if the hurt comes back (and it will be back full force), then I will have this to remind me that there are days when everything that weighs me down doesn’t seem to be as important anymore.

I’ll leave you on this rather content and serene note. I am going to make the beds now, then I’ll put my golden shoes on and spend my day at IKEA. (For me, IKEA is more stressful than working a double shift at the nursery).


I woke up happy

I had a very vivid dream last night. It was about a person I haven’t talked to since last October. And I woke up with a happy feeling inside. It makes me wonder if this person thought about me too. If they did, I hope they had a happy feeling too.

I keep waiting

Silver slivers of an other world
Golden echoes of a past long gone
It is as if the warming summer rain never ceased to coat our skins
It is as if the most important part of you lives inside my pulsing veins
Gray clouds repeating your whispered word
White lies, hidden in a new song
It is as if your home is in my mind
But my mind is lost and home is hard to find
Iridescent pictures of the end of an affair
I vividly remember the way you used to ask “Are you there?”
Silver slivers, fragments of our story
Golden echoes, mirror of a promise I intend to keep

Covered with love

Wrap your self around my soul

Consume me until

I will disintegrate in your smoldering embrace.

Standing still,

I feel your essence seeping in to my very core

Until I wrap my soul around your fragile mind.

This new year has not been a creative one so far. I have not been inspired, not by music, not by words, not by people.

I was, however, made aware that I suck as a friend. Two people noticed it, it must be true? Call me stubborn, but they don’t get it. I can’t think happy thoughts and all becomes good and well inside my head. I can’t embrace people who I subjectively feel are not needing me to live a good and happy life. And I just can’t be a better friend at present.

In a way, it all comes down to them not knowing me. And I can’t pour my heart out face to face. It happens in writing. My writing is not hidden, yet neither my family nor my friends read my words. My family claims it is because I write in English, but they know enough of the language to understand me. I mean, my words aren’t difficult words. If they wanted, they would get it. My friends are the same… They were rather condescending when I proudly told them that I published a novel. I remember feeling a mix of accomplishment and shame.

Unexpectedly, this thought crept into my mind today. Well… Not completely. I am more or less seriously taking the decision at this moment to write a new novel. I will take my time with it because I know how easily I am overwhelmed with work and family and the house and finding time for myself, but I miss writing and the only remedy I know is to pick it again. I know that I can do it. Heck, in 2015/2016 I wrote four short novels back to back. I will not claim that they are perfect and they are unedited and filled with mistakes but they are out there to read for free. (tablo.io/micqu)

So yes, I will write again. I will find inspiration and passion again. And I will not let anyone make me feel ashamed for this. Because writing is in my bones. It is a part of who I am.



It goes both ways

I am a firm believer of “everything happens for a reason” and ” people walk parts of your journey with you for a reason”. Until now, I only applied it to me. This person entered my life for a reason, and this person left for a reason. The reasons (phew… Lots of reason here), the reasons aren’t always understandable at first. Most often, we only understand the lesson we learned in hindsight. We are learning from the memories and experiences we made.

I recently understood that this works both ways.

I struggled with the fact that a person is not an active part of my life anymore. It was (and partly it still is) hurting my most sensitive feelings. And I miss him. But the truth is, I don’t miss him. I miss the idea of him. I miss the knowledge that he was just a swipe on the screen away. And while I tried to come to terms with it, using my mantra (everything happens for a reason), I failed to understand that I am not a part of his life anymore either. And as much as I have learned and gained (and lost) from this experience, he learned and gained (and lost) an equal amount of things. Sure, his lessons are certainly different, but they are there.

That thought, honestly, it blew my mind. Of course, I began pulling myself down and insulting myself as egoistic and self-obsessed when I had some time to mull it over.

The fact remains that every coin has two sides. Everything we do has consequences. And sometimes, when we interact with someone, things happen for a reason. For us and them too.

The lesson I am taking from this is being even more considerate and kind. We all have our internal struggles. Most are hidden to the public eye.


Cathy (2018)

Empty day

I had an empty day.

Is that what is called normal? There was no rage, no overwhelming moments, no serenity… Nothing. Just emptiness. An emptiness that wasn’t challenging. I was without deep emotions.

Strange. Strange indeed. But not unwelcome.

The sun was shining. I did not make my beds. I read, listened to music, played with the kids, took a bath… Mundane. And that was okay.