Stubborn tale

Since my last post was about closing a chapter and about a tale I was so anxious to never happen, this post will be about one I never got to write, and I am glad that I did not!

When I started my blog, I was confused. I had no idea where it would end, but I had this vague picture of a situation in mind. A mild summer night, probably, and after years of silence, finally music somewhere in the distance. Life would be back! And I would be standing somewhere on one of my beloved fields in the golden light of a sunset, and I would hug my witch.

My witch! Layla, this otherworldly being that I summoned to survive the darkness! And we would both cry. And I would whisper how unfair life just never stopped to be! And she would shake her head and tell me to be quiet, and tell me to be happy. To put on my new dress, my new boots, and to go out there and enjoy the life that was back, while she had to go back to her time.
To her time?
Yes.
To her time, ready to get burned, or whatever.

„Not just whatever!“, my witch interrupts my typing. „Ready to get my hair cut off. To get my skin tested by needles, and to then finally get burned with everyone watching!“

I always figured that this would take place at the end of my journey. Once I did not need her presence to survive anymore, I would have to let go and leave her to her dark fate.

But this blog post, I never wrote. Never really. Only right here, as an „What if“ I will never let be.

Because, I will never let her go.
I will never let her leave and face the darkness she unfairly was born into.
I will forever hold her hand through the waves of the universe.
This is an ode to stubbornness!
Because sometimes, we just must not let go.
Some things are too precious, and almost too fragile to survive this world. Some people will tell the person holding on to shards that it‘s not worth the wound and that it‘s time to move on, and it‘s hard to see when they‘re wrong about it, but sometimes they are!
Sometimes it’s the right thing to force your head through the wall, as a German phrase would put it. The head that holds the mess, I’m describing here. Because yes, a big part of this happens inside this stubborn head. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel as if good things are so rare that it’s the obvious thing to assume that the world is already busy in taking them away. And after years and desperate raging, I decided just never to allow that.

So, here is an ode to stubbornness and to holding on, because now and then we just have to!

„No wonder he greets you with „hello stubborn-head“, my witch giggles.
She is right.
I have a friend who says that to me.
And I‘m glad I give him reason to.