Tell Me I'm Dreaming // poetry

28. BLOOM

We were planted here three summers ago,
when some were here, and some were leaving,
a premonition of how it would always be.
From the first moment we felt that time was fleeting
flying away even when we barely knew our bearings.

We were already on the road to leaving.

But if time was short what was there to do 
than try to spend the days as wisely as we knew.
And so choices were made, and mistakes,
and blunders as we stumbled and missed the way
we actually wanted for the way we were swept away on.

But somehow, so far, it's turned out okay.
And sometimes I wonder, "what if?" 
What if we rearranged our roles and replaced our goals
and restarted this whole thing?
But in the end that's something I'm fine with not having
somehow I'm fine with this life that I'm living.
Difficult as it is to find my way with time on my tail
chasing me to the end and the yet unknown future that it entails,
terrifying as it is being forced to run towards a goal I cannot see—
somehow it's okay.

Maybe it's because I'm growing,
and all around me I see others sprouting
and yet others blooming as they're leaving
leaving behind the colours they've acquired—
the memories formed, which, like wilting petals, spiral
to the ground.

Yes, we've already had to say goodbyes
but to me, at least, these were smiling farewells
because goodbye is not forever.
In my native tongue, goodbye is said as "see you again," 
and that's how I feel, even if I never see them again
the world, as vast as it is, is also smaller than we think,
if we link one person to another, really,
everyone knows someone who knows someone else, and 
eventually, the circle comes back around.

So every year I will say my diligent goodbyes
and hopeful hellos, as one year passes on and a new year arrives.
As one year of flowers fly away and their colours slowly fade
a new year of blossoms bring their buds in and begin to bloom.
And one year I'll be the one leaving, and then I'll face the uncertainty
bravely, I hope, with the courage to brave whatever waves will wash over me
after I leave this place.

So I think
how wonderful it is, 
that in sickness, and stress
in maturing and immaturity,
in romance and new chances
through friendships and field trips
and tough times that these rough lives
are slowly being refined.
And half the time I'm overwhelmed by complicated we are,
and the other half I'm reminded how young we really are
but really, I'm glad, no matter what,
for this time.

'Cause I couldn't have picked a better time to bloom.
__________________________________________________________________

Given that this book of poetry has been focused around my experience growing up--something I'm still in the process of doing, by the way-- I thought it'd be fitting to end with a celebration of high school life and being a teenager. And yes, we're almost at the end! In a similar fashion to my section divisions, there will be one last short poem that acts as the epilogue to this book, and then, dear reader, I believe our journey together will be over.

(Until I decide on another project I can actually commit to.)

It's been a wild ride. It's been five years(?) since I joined the Wattpad community and three since I started writing Tell Me I'm Dreaming. At first, it was an outlet for my depression. I have trouble talking about my feelings and the issues that I am dealing with, and find it much easier to express myself through creative means. At the time, I was also really eager to develop my writing skills, as I had had little experience with writing poetry.

However, as I kept writing, I also kept living my life, and the subjects I touched on started to grow and expand as my experiences did the same. And so this turned into a story about a journey away from suicidality and depression and towards... not a perfect life, but one where I inhabit a much healthier mental state and have learned, and grew, and am better at dealing with my issues.

Well, that's about it, so bye!

- Paula