by HelluvaGirl

Who can tell whether we’re alive or dead? Either way, we live in the heaven or hell of our choosing. I live in my almost heaven with the elements of purgatory. They were the entrance fee. 

Three years ago, I had a vision of what my life would be like five years later. Going through turbulent emotions and circumstances, I pictured myself calm, composed, classy, with my back straight. I saw myself beautiful in the way I’ve never been, that is at peace with myself and appreciating things that are lasting and truly valuable amidst the swirls of the natural course of life that is sometimes moving elsewhere than we plan.

I am there. It didn’t even take five years.

And I have a new vision now.

I exit the car, walk down the street, and the sun is shining so, so bright… I am wearing a blue pencil skirt and a beige top, and the wind is playing in my hair. The old city is beautiful and outwardly, I’m very far away from where I’ve been.

I’m on my way to meet you because you came to see me. It’s for a short hello and then you’re gone.

You came to see me in a place I’ve made my life by conscious choice, neither cold-blooded bravely, nor easily. However, it seems I have been travelling there for many years without even knowing.

Outwardly, it seems to be lightyears away from what I was born into – so far away from war. Yet there is me, the centre of all the random, curious things, the trace of which can only be detected if one looked into the bottom of my eyes for a long while, leaving first impressions in the fog.

I connect the present with my almost invisible past.

I will see you for minutes that won’t feel like time at all but like breathing in gold, and my heart will be agitated for the rest of the day. You will then leave me to stick around with my choices and that almost feeling I have whenever I meet you in my dreams.

Perhaps I am not alone any more, outwardly.

In my dreams, almost with you.