Sometimes, in order to move forward, you have to let go of things that are not finished, things that never got to tell their whole story, things that never even got to just “be”…
Sometimes, in order to become, you have to come undone. Torn to pieces; reduced to ashes. It’s all so sad. To grieve what was, grieve what couldn’t be, what could have been… to grieve oneself.
Moving on is… sour-sweet. The taste will linger on. It’ll stick to your clothes, your teeth. It will stick to every last atom of your life until you let it all go. Away.
The past will linger on if you invite it to stay; happily. But, in order to move forward, that too you will have to let go of. Leave it all behind. Step out of your skin suit. The future is here, it’s waiting for you.
It all starts here. In this brand new dress, this brand new city… with this brand new loneliness in your heart and these cracks that progressively grow bigger and deeper; making room for brighter things. Or so you keep hoping.
I am not back. Maybe I never will be. But I trust that the woman that is taking over is the one I need. Maybe not the one I had always pictured but the only one that makes sense. The one that followed the path — as broken, as misleading — and still somehow found the Light.
I know the title says “A brand new everything” but the truth is that nothing feels new yet. And it’s getting older by the day. This new chapter is still wrapped up in a plastic film that I am eager to tear into with my crooked fingers. But I can’t. It’s like sitting at the table on an empty stomach but having to wait for everyone to be ready before you can touch your food.
The frustration. The quiet rage. The despair. The loneliness. The Light hiding behind the layer of dust & rust. It’s all new. It’s not. Old friends wearing a different outfit.
This is the first time that I am ready but Time isn’t. The first time that Time is the one waiting and I’m the one running forward.
I’ve never felt more like a ghost; rotten. But soon my soul will find my toes again. I will fall into place. Everything will. Or so I keep hoping.
La rivière suit son cours…
The Dawn Chorus… 
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