Understand that there will never be a perfect time, a perfect way, to fall in love or out of love, but you must do it. You must. Tell the people who mean something to you that you care, hold them closely at night, and let them go if you cannot hold them any longer. Let those who walk away, walk away. Do not use them as emotional crutches, do not lure them back with memory and experience. Let them go if you do not love them the way you know you are capable of loving.
Cry when you need to cry, feel everything you need to feel within the body that you hold because you are allowed to be sad, you are allowed to feel deeply about the things that happen to you, about the people who leave. People will tell you to stop, people will tell you to get over it and to move on, but you – you must cry. You must come to terms with it, you must experience the hurt, because if you don’t it will own you.
Do not wear your body like an apology. Wear it proudly. Be in awe of your form for what it is, for where it gets you, for what it allows you to feel and do. Love your legs not for their size, but for the mountains they have scaled, for the miles they have walked. Love your eager eyes not for their colour, or their shape, but for what they have allowed you to see, what they have turned into poetry for you.
Remember that right now you are someone who is living and breathing, someone who sees those who are sick and those who are dying as if they aren’t a reflection of you yourself. You grieve over them, you are sad for them, but you must realize that you are exactly like them, for we are all dying, we are all sick. We are all experiencing fatality in different ways, because life is a ticking time bomb it isn’t a grandfather clock. It moves quickly, it is not gradual. You do not have any moments to waste.
By no means do I have all of the wisdom in the world, by no means do I have the answers, but I do know that you should dance in antique shops, even if you have two left feet. You should go on roadtrips with the person you admire and you should kiss their neck and hold their hand with every mile that you chronicle. You should make love as loudly as you want, as often as you want. You should sit in your favourite park for hours on end; you should buy yourself flowers just because it is Tuesday.
You should,you must,above all else,make your life your own.
Read more of Bianca Sparacino’s writing in her new book Seeds Planted in Concrete here.
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