have heart, be kind.

I’ve noticed that we hold on to parts of our past for mysteriously selfish reasons.
We spend so much time creating this distorted version of reality, removing the painful little pieces that made everything fall apart in the first place.
We replay the fairytale over and over again so many times until we believe the twisted version of the story to be true.  Turns out, we hold onto it for hope, for nostalgia, for comfort, for the fear of never finding it again.  Even though it was the one thing that shattered our heart to begin with.
We have this need to flirt with this self-deprecating indulgence of the past.  It begins to sleep with the present, building tiny barricades around our hearts and head, carefully closing ourselves off to all of the good that wants to get in.  We finally realize the past is just a selfish little bastard fueled by insecurities when we accept that the past doesn’t scare us anymore.  the past is just filled with yearnings of the “what could have been” and the only way to let go of the self-fulfilling black hole of shit is with a burning desire to chase the good around us with brave eyes and a kind heart.


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