Hide from this Lovely Daydream, Listen to My Friends

Hide from this lovely daydream so I can listen to my friends. All with broken hearts. All desperately wishing. 

All grieving. 

I laid in a circle of grass in a concrete ring on top of a hill. Stared up into the sky. There was only one person who really checked in on me, but I couldn't burden them with everything. So, I asked whoever, whatever, for help. Help me solve this or please take it out of me. Please. I did other work. I put all of my effort in, but it's important to know that I asked for help. That I stared into the sky, put my heart into it, and asked. It did fade quickly after that. Part of me wants to say immediately, but no, it faded quicky.

So I want to tell them all to find their hill. Their circle. Their sky. I want to tell them that they have to want what's best, not just what's familiar. I want to be there for them and hold them and listen to them and guide them, and I try, but ultimately, they have to want it. They have to know that they need to keep moving forward. Keep growing. They have to know that these days come, but they do go. They disappear into the years behind them, giving way for new, beautiful, and rewarding days. 

You love, you lose, you repeat. 

Each cycle brings new beauty. New hope. New lessons. New chances.

You keep going, because if you stagnate, if you just settle for what's familiar, but painful, you won't grow. You'll diminish. You'll suffer long, slow, and deep pain, rather than the momentary sacrifice of doing what needs to be done. You have to want what's best. For you.

I laid in the grass and stared at the sky and I asked to either solve the problem or take it out of me. I wanted what was best. I grieved. I meditated. I spoke openly to my therapist and the one friend. I made sure my meds were working. I exercised. I walked. I wanted what was best. And I took the pain out of me. 

And you can also. 

You can find a hill with grass and sky. Or whatever that looks like to you. You can ask for help. You can do the work. The pain might seem insurmountable, impossible, entirely wrong. But you can get through it. You will get through it. If you want to.

You have to want to.

So I hide from this lovely daydream to listen to my friends. I can't make them want anything. But I can be there. I can be the friend that's there. 

And then, now, I can go back to my lovely daydream, in new beginnings and new hopes and new chances. And maybe it will go better this time, or maybe it won't go anywhere at all. Hell, maybe it will be worse. I can't know, but it doesn't matter. I have to keep moving. I want to. I'm excited to.