All For You

Just a Writer

One day I woke up realizing how messed up my life was. I was covered with bruises and wounds that are taking quite a while to heal. With bandages on my head, a cast on my arm, and stitches here and there. Too fragile to even move a muscle. I don't even know why I am still alive.

There was a tiny desire in my heart to live but I don't know if it was enough to fuel me into recovery. So I look around and some were still rooting for me. I then asked myself, how dare you give up? How dare you surrender the fight, when you know some still believes in you?

I know I can no longer do it on my own, I needed help so I took a saddle so I can ride the horse. It was a silly decision to make but the moment I was already riding it, I saw exactly where I am at and where I am heading to. It's not that bad after all. I knew right then and there that it's gonna be a bumpy ride, but I was all for it. I know He will never leave me anyway.

The ride was slowly yet certain. I was out of focus at times but my horse was steady and strong. I passed by a familiar face, I was offered a pen and paper. I was told to use it as it will make things easier for me. It took me a bit of time if I was to accept it, until I realized, maybe it's worth a try. It was a dream after all. Maybe now is the right time.

It was good therapy. Writing what's on my mind eases some pain that my body can no longer bear. The feeling was addictive that I allowed myself to get lost in writing my imaginations. Ideas came rushing like the water that goes down the stream. Day and night I spend writing, trying to pour my heart out.

With every stroke of my pen brings hope that one day, I will wake up stronger than ever. Every word is an expression of how I triumphantly won my fights. That every chapter made me bold and courageous in facing everyday's challenges. With a finished story, comes with the realization that living is not easy, but with love and passion, you can conquer your fears.

I am just a storyteller, sharing stories for those who are unheard. I am just a writer, who's fond of words. I am just me, broken yet still fighting to be alive.

Yeah, I'm just a writer, believing that one day, I can be whole again.