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“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”
J.R.R. Tolkien
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From the age of fourteen I always dreaded this day. It’s amazing to me that 22 years later, it still hurts, and somehow I still miss you. The tears have slowed over the years but the newfound pain of those who never knew you increases. The day you died was the last day I felt like I belonged. Since that day I have been “too much.” Too loud, too passionate, too weird, too silly, too outspoken, too opinionated; too much. Remembering who I truly am and not who the world thinks I SHOULD be is exhausting. I miss your wiser beyond age phrases.
On this day I’m listening to Jackson Browne and pretending like I belong here. This strange world has never felt like home to me, so even beyond the veil, it’s you who makes me feel like me.
Un seul être vous manque et tout est dépeuplé. -Alphonse de Lamartine ❤️
K-10