Site icon Bea Policarpio

Glimmer in the dust

Once again, I have allowed this space to gather dust.

So much has happened since I last posted—a solid six months, wow—that writing right now feels like I’m a stranger coming home. My phone memory, my camera’s memory card, and laptop memory are all bursting from the lack of space, which is technology’s way of saying I have way too many moments captured but not shared.

Without really thinking about it until now, half a year flew by just like that, all in the name of building a life we can call our own. It’s been a riot of long haul flights and dreams realized, a series of fights lost and battles won, a ping pong of meaningful conversations and useless drama, and calling it a draw at the end of it all and going back to one’s “why.”

In the six months that I stopped writing I:

In four days I turn twenty-four, and all I want for my birthday is to really catch up with myself. I want to celebrate all that has already happened, and appreciate the present as well without rushing through another to-do list or getting stuck in endless traffic only to repeat the day again tomorrow. I have so much to be thankful for, but I also feel as if I have barely had the time to grieve what has been lost, all the days unaccounted that I did not get to whisper my thanks for.

Tonight, I spontaneously turned to writing perhaps to make sense of all the stories in me that have yet to become words. To pick up where I left off, and start afresh.

I found Heaven in pieces, in glimmer and dust. 

With love and intensity,

Bea 

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