Self-Worth

My life as of late has been monumental amounts of written words on paper, China Jasmine tea, mellow and familiar sounds, and the loathing that comes with heartbreak, regret, and despairs of unemployment.

Albeit the previous sentence sounding woeful and glowing in self-pity, there have been rays of encouraging creative light and flow of self-growth, with regular attendance at pilates, the camera store, the park, the gelato store.

Why is it always that it's not once you go through a shattering, devastating, personal crisis that the weight of your true self-worth plummets into your stomach? I have gone through a period of gut-wrenching pain, where your heart feels heavy and tired, regardless of whether you are asleep or awake. Every second step I have been making conveys its self as a mistake to me, five minutes after thirty minutes of insane, back-and-forth inside of my head, saying it's the right thing to do.

How are you meant to forget, erase, and dissolve, all memory/ thought/ feeling/ emotion towards a being that has been so influential/ present/ powerful in your life for so long? How? How? How?

There's an unspoken fate, we both must take, every time we meet. You will go travelling around the world with someone else. You will walk your dog on those balmy evenings on the suburban streets with someone else. Someone else will listen to your trivial, yet zany, daily stories of the corporate life and of structure. Someone else will comfort you, and trace the same lines that I did. Someone else will replace me in your life and heart.