I'm having this weird pins-and-needles feeling like i need to write, but i don't know of what.
There was something my mind was muttering last night, the beginnings of a poetic ramble, but it was lost somewhere between an all-consuming desire to fall asleep, and S's arms. the former because of the latter perhaps.
besides, in the hold I'm in, i can barely find an inch to squeeze out a finger to type with.

It must've been something to do with Belonging. Fitting into shells carved out in another's soul, meant for you. Empty spaces we keep locked up inside, afraid to show the cocoons that might just be the Cinderella's-shoe to someone else's hurting soul. Slip inside to remedies, comfort, protection...whatever it is you're looking for.

I find acceptances and answers in weird places. TV stations with maulvis I find questionable at best. The revelations make me cry, affirm that the cocoon I easily fit into every night was perhaps, the very best choice for me. An intangible sort of forgiveness and acceptance, of following down the right path becomes perhaps just a little tangible...in stories narrated from souls down generations, we find peace in other's words and make that our peace. Balm the questions and turn question marks into full stops, finality.
Peace.

What is inner peace? Is it inside yourself or inside the cocoon within another? Every time I see him with heartbreaking vulnerability and an ache deep inside my soul, I find my inner peace is inside him. Maybe that's why they call it 'inner', and don't attach pronouns with it..Inner could be inside anyone, not necessarily yourself.

Home is where the heart is. Peace is where you fit. Or maybe, who you fit. Maybe they're all one and the same thing. Maybe Plato was right when he said what he did about soul-mates.

Maybe.


(admitting to your vulnerability when so much of it resides in someone else can be a very difficult thing)

lessons learnt in time.
-eeda