In an attempt to fit a thousand lives into my own, I’ve disappeared from home. I’m neglecting my ‘here’ to escape into what I know lies beyond this, all of this. I disappear from others to reappear for myself. I can only hope that the people I love will stay with me, by me, beside me.

When I think about time, my chest constricts. I love so many people in so many parts of the world, and it feels strange distributing myself like that. What they never tell you when you’re growing up is that you can never start with a clean slate. You can never disappear. All your actions follow you. Your secrets never stay secrets forever. The consequences are almost inevitable. Karma is a hearty bitch.

I’m growing up, and it’s both terrifying and strangely beautiful. Watching my friends and family grow is so rewarding and so—what, what is the word—amazing. But what I’m scared of is a growing apart instead of a growing toward. I’m happier than I have been my entire life these days, and a lot of that is due to me being honest with myself for the first time.

I’m terrified that I disappear so often that people will get tired of my absence, but I feel that the people who care will stay. The people I truly care for will know, regardless of whether I’m there or not. This journey of self-discovery, though tumultuous, is my path to becoming whole. The bonds that truly matter will endure, and in their endurance, I find my solace. ❤
🙏🏾

©️ Beatriz Esmer