Fail spectatularly

Fall on your face and fail spectacularly because when you fail you learn, when you fail you live. I so desperately want to keep this past chapter of my life open for the possibilities that I held out for, for the hope that all of my investment would pay me back in dividends and deposit great rewards for my future. But no, I am faced with saying farewell to the five stages of grieving that perceived their own schedule based on mood and left me turbulent at best. Instead of remaining sad to my core and clinging onto striving for success, I have realized that I produced long-suffering out of hope deferred and that something much better awaits. Part of me admits that these recent relationships and years are only over should I release my grip on redeeming them, and for that I lay down all fantasies. There are no rekindlings, there are no change of plans to divert our lives into intersection again, it is the finality of letting the past go. The death just brings in the letting go, so I can get back to living.
One of the most amazing gifts to myself is realizing I’m a person who doesn’t settle. When I come into contact with someone who doesn’t see his full capacity, it provokes me to outbursts and tantrums because I want nobody to believe lies of lack from hell. And I will not apologize for that, for much of my life up until now, I have feared missing out on a blessing if I walk away too soon. And yet, my threats of leaving turned out to be only threats because my gumption to change the atmosphere manipulated me into sticking around. The very lies of settling I preached against, became a form of coping as I compromised deep connection with others to remain complacent in my convictions. My new standard is a white flag waving in the wind to represent the surrender my heart feels in this intense moment of loss and acceptance. And in that recognition I am granted the gratefulness to carry on with a new-found gentleness and heartbreak for society that has become entitled at its foundation in seeking accolades and false pretenses through shallow relationships.
I don’t have time to gather facts from historical conversations that have been muddled by manipulation to cover tracks and question. All I can do from this moment forward is bless and not curse, share the story of my open heart surgery and all the ways it has made me learn what not to do, who not to trust, and who truly protects and loves me. Love is liberty, and the author of both is mending my wounds from truthful hurts. He is trustworthy, the One who walked the tight rope with me, championing me to look forward instead of down, and none other than My Savior. Through His vision, I have caught sight of just how high, how wide, how long and how deep His love really is. I’m going to honor the memories of past dreams by living my life to the fullest without blaming time as my scapegoat for apprehension. Facing the fantasy facade of perfect relationships and perfect timing is a truth that hurts, but necessary in order for me to die to myself.
Hence, the girl you knew is dead. She leaves behind a lifestyle of hesitation, neediness and fear. She failed well many times over in reactions, relationships and un-rest, all which helped her break free from seeing farewells as set backs. She is dead and she will not be looking back at the loss of hopes, instead she will be forging a future that most will pale in comparison to meet. Do not mourn because she wasn’t living the life she was born for, but she is now. And her entire life will be seen and lived through the lens of her redeemer, her heartbeat, her husband and the truth teller.
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