Spirit Polish.

I'm 23, and I am still learning a lot of things. One of those things is how to be alone.

Last night I thought my little heart was going to crack in two from the yearning I have to be held close by my family back home. They visited oh so briefly last week, and for those few days I felt safe. Like I was back in the nest, or tucked tightly under wings, warm dry and not afraid of falling.

We ate Chinese food in my parents holiday apartment on the Saturday night, just like we used to every weekend at home.

We're a small unit, but by golly we're a tight one.

There is no force more powerful in my life.

This speaks volumes to me about the infinity of legacy and the love of family.

They left and I took a rather big fall with impeccably bad timing.

I received some news regarding my health that wasn't so great, and it left me reeling.

I turned to him, because it is all I've known for some time, but the reality came hard that my heart is still reeling from that too (and rightly so).

I think it is the times like these that take the shine off your spirit. You plough through feelings of heartbreak, loneliness and loss and try to find the best way to handle them, and attempt to polish your spirit because you're terrified it'll never look the same again.

The other night a good friend just sat and cried with me. I was gracious for such a small and mercy, and very touched. Having a lap to collapse into when the world gets a little rough and tumble is a salvation I'm blessed to have, even if I forget that I have it sometimes.

“ In each of us lie good and bad, light and dark, art and pain, choice and regret, cruelty and sacrifice. We’re each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion fighting to emerge into something solid, something real. We’ve got to forgive ourselves that. I must remember to forgive myself. Because there is a lot of grey to work with. No one can live in the light all the time. ”

- Libba Bray

The power of positivity may have escaped me temporarily, but I'm willing to ram it back down my throat until I'm throwing up rainbows, kitten and unicorn dust once again.

In the mean time, I find writing to be cathartic.

A little more soul polish for the road...