It's so strange, isn't it? When you're shown a kindness that you didn't think you deserved, when you're sobbing because holy shit you are so loved.
It's so strange having kind people in my life, friends who want to see me and a girlfriend who wants to be with me. And then I realise, all those moments that I felt unloveable, too broken for anyone to help out back together...they were worth it. Holy hell, they were so worth it. Because now, I can appreciate the little things for what they are- signs of love and kindness from the people I couldn't imagine my life without.
Yesterday, I had one of the best days ever. I got to see my girlfriend and we just walked together for hours- talking about everything you can think of and making a few animal friends along the way (including a very nice donkey called Spice). The sun was shining, even though it rained later on, and we took stupid selfies and she braided my hair and it was pure happiness. Later that evening, she messaged me after her shift and I cried.
She sent me 7 minutes of voice messages, telling me how much she loved me and how much she wants to support me, how she see me and I cried. I sobbed like a baby. She is the best thing in my life and it was so overwhelming to know that even with my flaws, my insecurities and my mental illnesses, she still loves me. And I will never get over the fact that I am loved by the kindest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.
And I will carry that with me for the rest of my life. That I am worthy of the love and kindness that I have shown others, and I don't need to feel any kind of guilt or disbelief over it.
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“KINDNESS” by Naomi Shihab Nye
“Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.”