Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

Where are they hiding? 
All the things I should know but never do. 
All the secrets that stay that way, the translations of life that get lost as they are passed down over the years, and the moments that fill the spaces between my bones.

Do I know them? 
Have I always known them? 
Are they lost inside of me, covered with the sediment of experience and failure, longing and the quiet acquiescence to the many responsibilities I bury myself in?

How did I forget that the most homesick I will ever feel is when I am finally standing on the porch, but have not yet put the key to the lock, turn the knob to the door, and stepped inside?

That weight and wait sound the same for a reason, and the longer I do the latter, the more I can feel the former and the heavier it becomes.

I shrink under the immeasurable and invisible weight of the wait, no matter what I am waiting for. 

Who told me the best truth that what's simple is true and it is my fault that so often I hold a simple thing, only to let it tarnish in the dirty water of false complications?

I stare into my outstretched palms and rather than rejoice in the perfection I have stumbled upon; each perfect minute and fragile breath, I find ways to pick it apart.

I look for flaws instead of features, cracks instead of character. 
I lose it somehow. 
And somewhere along the way, I realize that life is short.

Short in that there will never be enough time to tell you that I need to tell you all the things I need to tell you.

I must say them. 
Shout them. 
Scream them or whisper....
My voice will know the volume when it finds the ears that need to hear the words. 

I must say them because tomorrow is not a promise; it is a hope. 
I must say them because you deserve to hear them.
And I must say them even though my voice will shake. 
But it is the shaking that means it's worth it. 

Was it stolen or did I give it away in the darkest moments of my weakest days?

This belief and hope.... 
it is okay to believe and it is crucial to hope.

All these lost things, these missing and missed things, where are they now?

Perhaps they were never lost and always hiding inside me.

Perhaps I have half the answer and I am only waiting to find the other half, living secret and silent and shaking the voice of the one whose voice I have waited my entire life to hear.