I think I believe in destiny.
Somehow, I think things are meant to be.
Aligning of stars, fate, kind of meant to be.
That such horrors could be thrust upon us.
And yet, here we are.
Vulnerable opening of old wounds under the stars.
Finding the courage to trust despite many reasons not to.
Wanting to take the risks of letting people in to know we can.
Fighting every day to be better.
To be more than our beginnings.
To be more for ourselves.
Trying to love ourselves and one another.
Trying to become our own people.
Attempting to make sense of it all.
And staying up way too late to figure it out together.
We are not the people we thought we should know.
We are beauty and grace; full of mistakes and bad memories.
But always striving to lead by example.
We strum life away and fight for dreams.
We are brilliant people.
We are beautiful people.
We are damaged people.
Coming together to create a mosaic of a home.
Built with love and trust.
Even when it’s hard.
Even when we can’t move on right now.
Even when there’s nothing to say.
When nothing can change or fix the past.
We continue on.
Sleepy eyes with listening ears.
Allowing ourselves to be open.
Vulnerability.
Showing of dark sides.
It’s terrifying to let someone see it.
To let someone know.
To tell them the truth. Your truth.
Because sometimes our truths aren’t so good.
Or black and white.
Perhaps our truths don’t even seem like truths.
But we live them.
We embrace the piece of cosmic intervention we’ve been given.
At picnic tables designated for soul sharing.
And we spill our stories onto the pages laid before us.
Spill our stories into one another.
And hope they can read and understand.
We dare to hope that they will take care of the fragile piece of soul you’ve just given to them.
And we hope that they’ll stay.
I am here.
We are here.
This is tonight. This is what we’re given.
And I choose to stay.
Will you?