Context, The Way, And Him

How can I summate an entire process in a singular blog post?

I like to play... with clay and bricks, with words and meanings, hurts and healings. I go through phases like lifetimes. And my favorite space is mud because it reminds me of my childhood when I would meditate beneath the afternoon sun who helped me create by solidifying my makes as if together we were one god.

Context is everything sometimes. I fell into a dark phase a few years back. There were things in life I needed to explore on a closer level because I just didn't understand any other way. I warned those I could. I let go of those I couldn't protect from myself. It hurts you less when I leave you than when I beat you repeatedly, so I chose the lesser of two evils. When everyone was at a safe distance, I fell into my game to obtain the knowledge I needed for the future. But more than that... the understanding I needed. Knowledge isn't much without understanding. Nor is art. Nor is life.

I'm so torn up because I couldn't protect my truest love. What could I do but hold his hand, then? I tried to warn him, chase him away, pull him from the mud I created by deleting everything. Nothing worked. He never left and he fell into the hurt with me; straight into hell. He fell into the dirt with me. Confused. Abused. Misused. Accused. Refused. We suffered all the things like crawling through fire because we desired what's on the other side so fucking much... because life is barely worth living without. And I'm happy to say that it's finally over!

Layers Of Love, sculpture by Ana333

Some days ago, I woke up with the morning sun and realized the fucking phase has at long last ceased! The world feels different now. A mountain has been lifted from my shoulders, and I hope Atlas feels the same. If he doesn't, I'd take his weight, take his pain, clear his brain. We learned some precious things about what we like to study and we should keep them in our pockets until the day is ready. I hope in the coming days I could end the confusion, the seeming illusion of everything that's been plaguing us for years now. What love and curiosity to stay with me for so long, swirled into my circumstances, never letting go. He's earned every good thing I can think of and more!

Processes can be long and complicated, convoluted at times, and outright terrifying. I commend those who brave the unknowns. Space is layered and empty sometimes. Makes us question if it's all worthwhile and if we'll ever find our way back to life. It feels as if we've died day after day, night after night. It feels like we'll never make it through the fire. Could you believe he stayed through that kind of pain?! Floating in the mystery. Not knowing up from down. The insanity! And he held my hand when I was scared, despite his own fear, despite his beliefs and depth of grief. That is true love. It never leaves despite what it may appear on the outside as it storms away in lividity.

There are a million pieces to glue together. We'll need a little more time. But on the bright side, we're on the upslope and the worst of it is over. It shouldn't hurt much anymore. It will mostly be beautiful. Resurrection is difficult, so prepare to work a little more. But at least it won't feel like our fucking skin is peeling off! How I would kiss his heart and stitch it so meticulously. I would sweep his mind from last year's pain to clean the slate. I would spend the rest of my days walking on the edge ever so carefully, never slipping and dragging him down with me. And if he feared the fine line, I'd carry him over the abysses so he could close his eyes.

Art can be expensive. Purpose can be expensive as the chosen way, but humanity is a priceless creature to me. And though it would be thankless, I'd still die for it. But I'd rather not if I can help it because life is so precious to me, and the love I found in him... that's worth everything!