Have you ever questioned the purpose of your own existence? Do you sometimes stay up late at night to wonder why the universe decided to let you live? Yes I do. It all started when I was just a little girl who was very curious about the world. One day, I discovered a dead butterfly in our garden. It was a beautiful creature and I found it unfair that something so wonderful will never ever breathe again. I cried so hard that day and I mourned its passing. Then I realized that even the flowers never really loved the butterfly because they still bloomed the next day. The sun still shines so brightly and the birds continue their endless chirping. Nothing changed at all. That’s when I came to the realization that I am just another human being in this planet and there are billions of them out there. The Earth will continue to rotate in its orbit even without me. Time will not stop when I am gone. When I die, they will grieve for a while but years will pass and I will be forgotten. When the worms have devoured my flesh and my bones swallowed by the ground, I will then understand the agony of becoming nothing like that dead butterfly.
I have always considered myself like a speck of dust in my grandmother’s attic. I hated myself for growing up into someone as insignificant as an old blouse that’s been tattered into pieces. I wanted to become more. I dreamed of becoming someone that history will remember. I want my name to be echoed across centuries. I want to become that woman that will never be forgotten. But at the end of the day, I am just myself. I am that someone who blends in with the shadow. I am that someone who is terrified of climbing out of the tower where I have imprisoned myself. I am that someone who will forever remain a wallflower. I really want to believe in the existence of a parallel universe. Perhaps the same me exists somewhere out there, the same me who had stumbled upon the right dream, doing something she loves and knows what she wants from life. Maybe she has already figured out her raison d’etre. Maybe the same me is happy out there. Then I can just be happy for her too.
I have always loved the rain more than the sunny weather. Maybe because I feel like the rain offers sympathy to a sad, lonely and sometimes angry soul. It cries with you and lashes out through its lightning and thunder. In a way, without saying any words, you feel like it can understand you. That you can be the worst and most bitter person in the galaxy and it is perfectly fine. I detested myself for a very long time. I hated myself for not turning out to be someone I wanted to become. But I regret it now. I am crying for that girl whom I killed over and over again while hoping that I might wake up as a different person. I betrayed her. I have wounded her heart and that scar will always torment her until her last breath.
Falling in love with your self is probably the hardest thing that any person can do. It would be like swimming in a bottomless ocean. In your journey towards self discovery, you will brave the deep waters only to find out that there are monsters lurking in the corners. When you finally uncover your flaws, please embrace them. Your imperfection is also a part of you. Never give up on yourself even if the whole world ends up abandoning you. Love yourself because she also loves you.
Written by Avena Danae