An incoherent blog post. There may be typos as I'm on my phone.

Five years. Half a decade. It's somewhat amusing, typing it like that. This account survived my personal urge of deleting things for good.

I don't use it now, though. To be honest, I still write. I simply couldn't bring myself to publish it in this account. I post snippets of it in my instagram, and even in my personal blog. And those are filtered, as well. I still write. Just not here. I suppose, this space is my happy place, and the things I write at the moment are far from happy. As summerchild, I'm generally known to be painfully idealistic, despite writing borderline-depressing stuff that can also be triggering.

"You see the wonder in everything."

"You trust too much."

"Is altruism in your nature?"

Those are some remarks I hear on a regular basis, and I didn't bother denying them.

But things change, and hope shatters. I won't go into specific details, but I have learned, that things do get to me. I kept on talking about loving others, and that was what I did. It was with reservation at first. I was cautious. I refused to get hurt, and I thought I was guarding my heart when in fact, I was actually imprisoning it.

The events which took place in the spring of 2015 served as the trigger for me to do things I swore myself to never do. I dived in. I met people in places I promised to never enter, because I wasn't ready yet. But in there I learned: you'll never be readyㅡthat if you desire change, you have to move.

Move forward.

Move out of your comfort zone.

And if you ever fall, then fall forward.

In there I learned I've already been equipped beforehandㅡthe gear I had simply wasn't what I had in mind, but it was nevertheless what I needed.

I loved with no agenda. It wasn't perfect, but passionate. I knew I'd never run out, because I was certain of where my love and strength comes from. I know my help comes from Him. But I grow tired and weary, too. From that whirlwind of continually loving others, and constantly looking for the gold in the dross, the ground I was standing on became unstable, and I lost my balance.

In the midst of things that took place, I lost my wonder. I know I did. I found it difficult to hope again. I had no song, no words, and no tears to express the pain that soon became an empty space. I may have felt too much, which resulted to this certain numbness.

I have attemptedㅡfor so many timesㅡto write it down, and yet...nothing.

I fell back into the cycle of saying things, but not really speaking. They became courtesy words which I string together to make it seem like I've answered a question or responded to a statement, when in truth nothing really got resolved. Once again, I refused to let others see the inner stirrings of my heart.

But backtracking the things I've written and reading your messages helps me a lot. It helps me recalibrate myself, and remind myself of just who I am in Christ.

At one point I questioned God about my emotions. I told Him maybe if I didn't feel as much, things wouldn't be the way they are now. Maybe things would be better. Maybe I wouldn't feel this kind of emptiness, because I knew where to draw the line and I could easily walk away from people who refused to stay. I wouldn't have to wait. I wouldn't have to give them the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn't have to cross oceans for them when they couldn't even jump over puddles for me.

I didn't want to be the safety net, or the second choice.

And in that moment, things stood still.

He said being this sensitive is my gift. That it isn't a sign of weakness, but a picture of quiet strength.

"This rough world needs the softness I've given you. You can love others the way they need to be loved. I've always been with you, so keep on doing what I've called you to do. I didn't promise for a painless journey, but my grace is sufficient for you. In your weakness, I will be your strength. I know where you are at the moment, but that won't change My love for you. Let me hold your hand. Trust in Me, child. I am enough."

I wrote this post with something in mind, but I lost track of it.

But thank you for your words. For your messages. For the things you do that mean a lot to me. And I'm sorry if I don't reply. I rarely stay in this account.

If you find me, then you find me.