Time, apparently, is the best healer. not because it heals, but because, it gives enough time for an individual to learn to control the pain of a wound. As I write this post, I recall yet another dream that I had. Dreams, somehow, have always managed me, to fill with hope, courage, a never ending thirst to achieve what I dream about, in ways that I would not be able to fathom otherwise.
My eyes were closed. I was not wearing any shirt. I could hear the gushing sound of the wind in my ears. Randomly blowing wind. It had its own rhythm. I was facing towards the sky. with my eyes closed, I felt the sun rays hitting my face. I could sense the brightness in my eyes. The tinge of red, combined with that or yellow and orange, mixed with the feel that wind brought in me. It was different.
I was there. Standing. All alone. I begin to open my eyes. Slowly. As slowly as I could. With every passing moment of me opening my eyes, I began to see where I was. Hill? No, I do not think so. Mountain? I do not think so either. What was it that I was standing on? As I begin to ask, I find no answers, and yet, I manage to notice that the place where I stood was above everything that surrounded me. I could view it all. The wind began to blow again. And this time around, I stretch my arms, an attempt to hug the wind.
As I stood there, on topmost point of it all, from where I could see it all, I noticed that my body had several tattoos. First reaction was that of a surprise. Last I remembered, I had only one tattoo. But now, I saw so many. As I try to take a closer look, I noticed that all those that appeared to be tattoos, were actually my past wounds. My wounds, became my scars, which appeared like tattoos, a mark that I would now carry all my life, till death do us apart.
Not being me, is not easy for me and hence I could not let myself stop from thinking about each of those. I stood there, looking at all of them. One by one. Some of them reminded me of battles I had fought with myself, struggles I went through. Those moments, trials and tribulations as they say, moments that made me stronger every passing day. As I continued seeing them, they reminded me of all the painful days that I had lived, all the hard efforts that I had put in, all those that went out without the reward anywhere in the sight. All those moments, flashed right in front of me, and as much strong as I had become over time, I realized tears were out. With my right thumb, I wipe them out. I look at the sky, clench my fists, take a deep breath, close my eyes, and breathe out opening my eyes.
I now began to look at some of the wounds, those that were a result of a much fiercer battle in life, the ones that resulted in victories. As I began to think of these, there was some sort of determination building up in face, some kind of strength building within me, a motivation may be, perhaps, positive energy. Several thoughts started coming to my mind.
As much as distance, though of few hundreds of miles, makes me live a life several lives away, I realize that time indeed has made me stronger. I correct saying it, time did not heal anything. it just had made me stronger. Standing there, I said unto myself, "Whatever happens, I aint gonna give up, because not being me, is definitely not easy for me".
