Lingering

And I often find myself lingering…
Lingering between the sky and earth, on the way to meet a stray part of my life.
Lingering between what I lost and what I am hoping to find.
Sitting at the edge of two lives.
On the one hand, I am clutching the golden memories of yesterday, and on the other hand, looking for a door to open on new beginnings.

I often find myself lingering between the truth and facts.
My heart is longing for his authentic self, and my mind is holding on to survive another day, running along with daily routines, running away from any detour.

I often find myself lingering between loneliness and comfort.
Taking a step forward to make a new friend, and ten steps back, rolling under my bedsheets, watching Netflix and reading books.

I often find myself lingering between love and protection.
A broken heart left too wide open, ready to be filled with some love, and the shadows of the broken pieces covering it, hiding it, keeping it in its dark safe zone.

I often find myself lingering between being a friend and a lover.
Lost identity in a sea of fear. Fear of stepping all the way out, fear of going all the way in.

I often find myself lingering between self-worth and rejection.
I tell myself, I am like this very unique flower they wrote about in fairytales; the one that is hidden on a very high mountaintop and people spend all their lives looking for… yet the world walks by me, steps on me, maybe sometimes picks a petal or two and continues their journey.

I often find myself lingering between life and death.
I see the light, and I walk tiny steps away from mourning all that has expired.
I keep going, stumbling but never stopping, on my way to meet, one day, my whole self.

Originally written on September 7, 2019.