Over the summer I witnessed the decline of what seemed like a perfect relationship. For about 6 months, I watched love at its purest. It was sweet and fun and inspiring, but then rapidly everthing switched gears and reality set in. It was confusing. It was scary. And it was heartbreaking.
But it was also liberating.
My good friend Norma and I partnered together for a nude photoshoot to represent the vulnerability of wearing your heart on your sleeve and having it ripped off, but also having the courage to persevere and put forth effort to rebuild yourself.
Norma, stripped of emotion (and physically), not only wanted to create art but to become art. That’s what we did here.
The growing pain that pulls and rips at my heartstrings, leaving me empty at its wake. Staying up after twelve because his light snores aren’t there to help me sleep.
The white noise no longer drowns out fears as they reach out for the vessel left of us...
Making the moon my new companion of the night and finding it a lot harder to live without the butterflies rattling in my stomach. Finding that my voice is raw and lost in the midst of yesterday no longer able to utter your name much less my own.
Oh god, would it be easier to drown in the waters of despair,
To wallow in my sorrows.
Slowly trying to rebuild myself from the mess that is left behind but failing because honestly, it is a work in progress, a hefty project and time can become my never ending enemy until one day it isn’t.
One day the baggage will get easier to carry,
Maybe prioritizing loving myself will be more important than searching for someone else to do it for me.
Maybe when the load gets lighter I’ll find my voice in between all the boxes.
Maybe I’ll find yourself screaming my way out of the shell that I reside in.
Maybe into a new battle without having to do it only for someone else
This time it’s for me.