It has taken a year to forget what fills the boxes in my parents’ basement. These things that I was so latched on to that I could not sell them in a garage sale sit waiting for me. Even from the other side of the world I still hold on to these “things” physically speaking. But, emotionally, I don’t even know what they are anymore. Through anger, sadness, pain, beauty, simplicity, and happiness I have just begun to find some sort of balance in the here and the now. Pardon the cheesiness, but after a short period where my mind actually might have been lost, I have begun to come out of a little cocoon, My third birth in a sense (or debatably the completion of the second 4-year-long rebirth).For the first time, I can look at a cactus and acknowledge its shape to be that of a dancer with peace in my stomach. I can handle the idea of being friends with ex-lovers. I can be alone and not lonely. I can be possession-less and yet accomplish. There is so much more learning and growing to be had, and now I am free to begin.
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