Let me try writing you, once more, like in the old times.
Have you blocked me again, I wonder, and my heart aches at this thought.
I’m writing you in a way I won’t dare to share with the world, and this means in a way I’m not yet ready, truthful, toward the truths I’m writing. I’m still ashamed, scared, of what people will say, of being scolded by my father. But perhaps that’s the way to heal after all, to let everyone know and understand who I am. By being entirely honest and truthful, blockages will fall, new understandings will be reached, for us and for others around us.
That’s what we’re afraid about after all. Their gaze, their judgments, their disappointment. More than that, their reproofs, their anger.
Every single day that passes, I’m obsessed with getting more followers, on my blog and on every single platform where I have subscribed. For I unconsciously associate, followers, likes, comments with acceptance, approval, admiration and love. And perhaps also proving myself to others, proving to those who didn’t have confidence in me I can make it, I can appeal to a wide range of lectors, and to show them I’m starting to be successful. It’s also a way to consolidate these new choices of life I’ve made, and ensure myself of keeping the freedom I need.
You are more or less confronted to the same dilemma I believe. Deeply ingrained in you is the conviction that you need to finish what you have started to prove yourself, to pay off the efforts your parents have done for you, and not be the black sheep disappointing them. Hell, you promised to finish, and now at just a few months, a few miles to walk, you shy away and disappear in the wooded forest. How could they understand such an inconsequential choice. How could they approve of it, of you. So it’s better to follow blindly this fear, this rational voice inside of you, guiding you to avoid troubles. But you can’t avoid troubles my dear. If you shy away from external troubles, you will have to cope with internal troubles. You think you’re better with those, but how long will you resist before this unbearable pressure, before the roars of your dragon trapped in the underground of your heart and shaking rock and steel in his fury. How long will you resist without having to fight a civil strife in your very mind. From both sides where you look, you see emptiness, and you’re seized by vertigo. And so you prefer to drown in the moment’s pleasure and just forget about all that, about that choice to make or not to make, that will bring the same outcomes nevertheless. And I feel that too as well, in my indecisiveness, in my need to engage in activities that will dull my thinking and my feeling, in the way I can drown in them forgetting about my truth.
I’ve learnt better than judging you or screaming at you it seems. I just have this need to lay out before my eyes our mirror truths, as one helps to understand the second.
Chantal is upset with me, rightfully. I share my reality and my truths not only with you, but with her too. When I choose to live in shadows, she will feel her energy drop too, despite her efforts. This to tell me, to show me, what I’m doing is wrong. Just as I used to haze because of you, or that was the explanation I chose to give myself at the time, and helped me fight the haze, fight the seeds of it in myself. Now I’m experiencing things the other way around, but it’s not exactly the same situation, as I can’t feel her roars raging within me. It’s more of a quiet understanding she brings me.
On that note I will close my letter, hoping that my words will indeed bring the strength and the determination we both lacked. We’re not very far from living up to our truth. But there’s still a gap, a gap to bridge.
I love you my twin of love and truth and hug you tightly.