Dear melancholia, together we filled others with hope while we knew we lost it. I kept you a secret because I couldn’t explain you. In times I was not able to cope with the impression of reality, you seemed to understand my grief and relieved me from the pain. Therefore I kept a place for you in my heart along the way, hidden but well nourished and alive for I can feed on you when I am in need, even though I knew you are selfish. You consumed my sadness and left bittersweet numbness. Years passed but your shallow self still offers me silence, a walk through emptiness while you remain ignorant. Dear melancholia, I am screaming at you to go now. Your acceptance was a lie. I refuse to be afraid of my sadness anymore because I forgive myself. Now I realise the honor of my destiny that has made me look into the eyes of a saint. To have connected to love so heavenly and innocent that my body couldn’t accept it’s loss. I forgive my vulnerability for I was brave enough to dive in that deep. According to you, we will die together, for you are mine and I am yours. Dear melancholy, I refuse to quit the world. It is time for you to die for I could have the chance to live.
In Forgiveness, Aya.
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