How often did I reach the point of total darkness? Not a pitch black night really, but more like misty clouds on a rainy day. Beautiful but melancholic in nature.
As if a black pit has taken up a permanent space in my heart and is slowly infecting the rest of my system.
Everything seems futile in this state. Trying to control the blackness tires me, I have taken up this battle a million times before and every time it wears me out. Every time I get on that surfboard again, I feel a bit more tired. A bit more weary. Everything seems futile except for her, for she is truly the light of my life. And thinking about her places a careful smile on my face.
The black pit shivers, for it feels threathened by these warm currents of love. And I remember myself that: “this too shall pass”.
Somehow I keep forgetting though and the mourning for loved ones seems like the perfect fuel for the blackness, as if they are intertwined like lovers after a passionate night. Or like vines growing on trees, completely covering eachother in a dance of limbs and branches.
“You have been here before, so you will get out again”, but my guilt and hopelessness prevent me from fully believing that. The black pit is oh-so-clever in finding ways to convince me I am not worthy enough of being her mother. Not worthy for pursuing anything remotely resembling a dream.
She tells me different though. Every day I am showered with a thousand I-Love-you’s, an arsenal of affection, with its source in pure light.
A thousand reasons to keep on trying, not only for her, but also for me. There is still so much I want to experience. There is still so much I want to see.
And somehow I remember that the darkness is hiding the powerful light that is also still inside of me.