There was a picture I had for my life long before this blog was created, long before you knew me. I spent my entire being painting this picture. It was filled with different colours and shapes. I was so excited to be creating this piece because I was going to live my entire life looking at it. It was going to become my life.
It had tall mountains and pink skies. It had a sky full of stars, deep oceans, and a castle full of dreams. I painted the entire thing in colour. Every colour I could find and create. I wanted to explore every inch of this portrait. It inspired me.
But as you may have read, that picture no longer exists anymore. It was shattered. The pieces lost forever. Sometimes I find the tiny fragments and it reminds me of what I once had. A million pieces that haunt me every time I look at them. I try and remember what it exactly looked like, but my memory fails me. I’ve spent what feels like a lifetime trying to bring that portrait back so I can recreate it. But there is no more use.
So I decided to paint a new picture. This new one I had to learn to create colours I did not know existed. I had to invent shapes that would fit together. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. This new painting. It was much harder than the first one. The first one was so easy to paint. Now I am left looking at a blank canvas, paintbrush in one hand, wondering what on earth I can paint?
The thought suffocates me. Sometimes all I wish for is to be able to breathe again. Sometimes I just want to collapse; I don’t want to be strong anymore. I don’t want to struggle to hold onto the weight of the paintbrush.
I look at it sometimes and want to break it myself. But I know I won’t get another chance. This is all I have left. This one canvas. As much as I miss the old picture, I have learned to admire my new one. I have learned to love it and it has inspired my life in many ways.
So here I am, sitting on the hard wood floor, looking above at this canvas I am trying to make beautiful. How do you paint the sun when all you know is what the rain looks like? Well, you learn to make the rain beautiful.
I look at it and wish you could feel what I feel when I see it. I wish even for a minute you could. Isn’t that why I write? I would write to you every single day if I had to. Just so you could feel what I feel.
I have dreamed up an image for the life I want, for what I want everything to look like. I will never lose sight of that. I miss the colours I used to have. I took them for granted. The colours that made up that life. The opportunities I was handed. But these new colours, I hope I can work with. I am learning to work with. I know that I must reveal them. They must become a light in pure darkness. For those who have none.
I have to believe that I lost what I once loved, to gain something much more valuable. I have to believe that something good was lost for something great. It sure as hell doesn’t feel that way 99% of the time. But that 1%, sometimes it’s enough.
So here I am, colours staining my hands, knees bruised, arms weak, but my heart is as strong as it has ever been.