Wednesday [The Encounter]

Dear girl,
please don't ever forget your importance.
Please don't forget that you are a warrior, and a princess.
Don't forget that you were created to be part of a great adventure. A love story and a drama.
A comedy and a tale of war.
Please don't forget that you have the power to change the world.
Don't forget that you are loved beyond measure and that you are beautiful beyond belief.
Don't ever forget that no matter what happens you have more strength inside you than you could ever imagine.
And even if you don't remember any of that, please don't ever forget who you are.
Stay true to that.
For always.

We are dreamers. We are daring. We love to laugh and sometimes scream. We have questions.
We want to believe. We are the future.
We are girls.

Tuesday [The Resolution]

The tide is turning, this is redemptions hour,
In the midst of a world lost forever
You are all we have now.

The lost returning, salvation is all around,
In the midst of a world broken down,
You are all we have now.

This is love to break a world indifferent.

Monday [The Promise]

Oh to be asleep and dreaming now.
To have my head on the pillow and not need to think about what is yet to come
or how to fill the time between now and then.

Oh the joy of long journeys and multiple time zones
and secrets that were never meant to be revealed.

Oh, how I love cooling storms after summer days.
The smell of wet pavement.
The black of dangerous skies.

There's so much potential.

Don't ever forget that you are worth more than all the stars in the sky.
He whispers.
It is barely audible.
But my heart hears and knows and rejoices.

And remembers.
Because in reality, it has always known. All along.

Sometimes reality is an anticlimax.
But I am living an adventure nevertheless.

Grow old along with me, two branches of one tree..

Sunday

In seven hours time I will be boarding a plane.
It will take me away into the night
over countries and oceans and islands and little people going about their little daily lives.
I will sit next to someone I've never met before.
Maybe have a conversation about who they are.

But likely not, because just like in cars
I don't talk much in planes.

And then, in 22 hours, or approximately thereof,
I will land back in the place that I have missed for the past month.

I will pick up my luggage [already 5 kilos overweight]
and walk down the little hallway that always make me feel very important.
And search for two faces in the crowd.


And I will be home.
And I will begin to plan for the next time I leave.
This time, for good.

Airport people, always say goodbye.

Saturday

I saw the moon for the first time in a month today.
It was a tiny sliver of shining light against the utter blackness of the winter sky.

It makes me excited to go home.

There's hope in my heart once more
and it's lovely.

In between the moon and you...

Friday

[or the difficult task of retelling a story]

I am...
in love with a foreign city.
In love with the clip clop of horse hooves on cobblestone streets.
In love with the feel of icy air against my cheeks, the sun warm against my back.
In love with the fairy lights strung between rooftops, like stars against the black sky.
I am in love with the language of strangers that is so familiar to me.
In love with the landscape that changes from grey to white to black and back again like an old movie.
In love with the stories behind each window, the stories to be heard in the wood of the doors.
In love with the scars worn proudly on the buildings from era's far worse than ours.

I am in love with the fact that despite it's strangeness, this place will always feel in parts..

Like home.


But despite all that I am in love with, I miss all of these:
I miss the balmy heat of a summer night.
I miss the way the cool of the water seems to reflect back upon itself, so that sitting in the harbour is always refreshing.
I miss being unable to touch the steering wheel for the first twenty minutes of a trip in case of finger/palm burn.
I miss the bustle of cars and pedestrians out in the hundreds on a saturday night.
Miss walking through streets I've been on so many time before and always discovering something new.
I miss the mix of cultures, the beauty of the entire world interacting together in one place.
I miss the city in the morning, miss it during the day, most of all miss it at night.
I miss coming home to the wag of his tail, the way he rests his head on my knee when I eat breakfast.
Miss waking up in the middle of the night to his dreams.
I miss my bed and all the memories held amongst the sheets.
I miss driving late at night, the cool air streaming in through open windows and the music loud.

I miss all of these things because of the memories they hold of the one I miss the most.
And despite the fact that I am, indeed, many thousands of miles closer,

I feel a million miles further away.

And so, tonight I begin to pack, and as I do, I will think of these places.
The one I love, and the one I miss, and the one I will be moving to soon,

and wish they were all one.

Lover come back to me.

Thursday

It's two am.
I am exhausted.

The battle has drawn everything out of me.
I can't do this on my own anymore.



I need you to step in and fight for me.



Please?

We, and the world, my children, will always be at war.
Retreat is impossible.
Arm yourselves.

-Leif Enger

Wednesday

I spent the weekend in the most intriguing city,
I would rather have made it a week, or a month.

It felt incomplete.

The world is made up of tiny pockets in tiny places where tiny people go about their tiny things
and not one realises how much bigger we could be.

You know the feeling.
The one that makes you look in every mirror,
in every reflective object you pass,
searching for that elusive thing you feel is missing, but can never pin point.

It's what we've been missing all our lives but have never known.

The glory we were created for.

The beauty that is abundant in all of us, but is hidden away because it's too real, too truthful, too risky.
It takes courage to be assured in oneself when the cool thing is low self-esteem.

It also takes courage to love when the easiest option is hate.
It takes courage to stand up against a world of injustice and greed.
It takes courage to stand for what you believe in.
It takes courage not to make compromises on what you stand for.

I hope I can find that courage within me.

I can't live, I cannot breathe, unless you do this with me.

Tuesday

There's this place I want to be in five months,
it's simply magical.
It's full of smiles and sunrises and sunsets and glow sticks and dancing in the moonlight.
It's wonderful when it's windy and even better when it's not.
The grass is always green and when it rains there's puddles to go splashing in.
Or mudsliding, if one is so inclined.
It warms my heart and brings my thoughts to a halt every time.


It's the one place I've ever felt truly at home,
even if it's full of strangers and completely foreign to me.



But it's going to take a miracle to get me there.



And I know the One who fights for me is more than capable of creating that miracle,
but truth be told, more often than not, the one who is fighting against me wins the battle for my trust.


I'm bored of believing his lies.

I'm bored of believing that my situation is hopeless, that I'll never be anyone who is worth anything.
I'm bored of believing that we will not make it, of always expecting the worst instead of the best.
I'm bored of believing that I am unloved and unwanted and everything else he has settled in my heart.


you step into my starless night and shine like the sun

Monday

I want to write again.
I want to sit by the window till 3am, watching the snow fall in a country that is completely foreign but home all at once, and I want words to come like never before.
I want to see worlds formed with the ink of my pen.
I want to see dreams layed out before me similar in number to the stars in the sky.
I want to remember that my purpose is far greater than that which I have dreamed of.

I want to understand my heart again.

A curiosity to revisit that country beyond maps whose contours I had once traced in my sleep

I don't remember where I read that. I read too many books and never pay attention to who they're by or what they're called.

But it stirs a longing inside me nevertheless.
Beautiful sentences always have.

It's the New Year, and I figure since it's time for new beginnings then I may just go back to my first love.
Writing makes everything else in my life so much more fluid.

oh, how he loves us so.