You Don’t Fall, You Shred.

Why is it that as soon as you establish a bewildering deep connection, a bond that feels so unbreakable that it could surpass death, you start to feel other connections waver? This new bond, both beautiful and perplexing, exciting and terrifying, exhilarating and demanding gifts you with a breath of life. A breath, so urgently desired, it awakens every spectacle of your body and conscious. And at first, it demands to be felt. But then you demand to feel it, again and again and again.

Balancing this is tricky. You never feel safe nor sane. There’s just this endless panic that cries for your attention. It’s a fear that quietly smothers your soul and impalpably suffocates. But when you fall, you don’t fall in absoluteness. You’re not defined by this. Parts of you will always stay up. You’re in control of which part falls. Of which part you shred.

It’s impossible to keep your inner core, your feelings, approaches, outlooks, and thoughts frozen alive balancing on a tight rope. Every step you take forces a movement, which imposes a change. You’re suddenly unearthing parts of you that you never even knew. But you soon will.

It’s impossible not to shred away parts of your old skin. It’s impossible not to shred away parts of your old self. It’s impossible not to shred away parts of your soul.

Why?

To make room for the different, for the new, for the curiosity that is embedded in each of us.

It’s not falling, it’s shredding. And once you get over the fear, it’s like breathing for the first time.