Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m carrying it. These heavy bulky suitcases. And they’re full. I mean sit on the suitcase just so I can zip it up kind of full. I walk around everyday lifting them, rolling them, dragging them, and I’m not even sure I know what’s in them anymore.
I’ve stuffed so many pieces of myself into these suitcases I’m worried if I open one up everything will come spewing out. I don’t know what’s worse: carrying this heavy burden or wondering how I’ll stuff everything back in before the world sees it, before I really see it.
It’s hard to breathe fully when I’m carrying so much of the past.
I wonder if I really need all of this luggage. All of these pieces of my past are part of who I am, but do I really need to carry them around with me everywhere I go. The pieces that matter are already tattooed on my skin, and I get to choose who sees those marks.
So, what if I just put these heavy suitcases down? What if I just released my struggling grip and took one step away. Maybe then I could breathe in, breathe out. Maybe if I look forward I could step toward something more beautiful. Maybe I could run.
But what if I need them, those memories stuffed into wheeled boxes of burden? I have a feeling they’ll stay right where they are. No one wants to steal my past. In fact, the past is the thief that steals my present, and without my present there is no future.
So I’m letting go. I’m putting those heavy bags down right where I am and taking one step. Just one. That’s all I need today to exhale.
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