I lose faith. Every now and then. I lose faith and even the tiniest word can shatter me. I lose words, and will, and energy and I have no one else to pick me up but myself. It can happen in a sunny day, with dogs barking cheerfully, with people enjoying cool summer breeze, or on a damp cloudy day when streets are empty.
I lose faith and I can’t fight time, not with the tools I have, take back all the undone things and self made promises and it makes me sad and angry and bitter at the same time and the pain winds up my chest and I feel like shouting every time. Shouts that would terrify the loneliest soul on this earth, for they come from the place where fears rally one another and dark shadows torment the light.
These are the moments when I’d like to step outside my life, take a long break or maybe never return, stroll into a life tailored differently, where choices are easier and things are better attuned with my stream of needs and wishes. For what is life but a long stream of needs and wishes, moments and dreams, ignorance and findings, ups and downs? Complemented by feelings, of value for all the things we experience and the people we get to love or hate.
I lose faith. So I have to find new meanings for it, rediscover what it means every single time and hold on to it as I would be holding on to the last breathe of air.