Don’t apologise for the softest parts of you, for the curve of flesh that fills the gaps between your bones. There are things in you that were born to be delicate. It is okay to be the one loving too much, too hard, too long. Or to miss them, or to still cry when you have to say goodbye. Be gentle with yourself. Let your feelings brush like velvet against your teeth. Don’t bite down.
When you’re angry you don’t have to be sorry straight away. Sometimes you have a good reason to be mad. If your stomach is churning and your throat is burning and the words are exploding out of your mouth, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Think before you talk back; don’t hurt if you don’t have to. But don’t apologise for being mad. It’s okay to be mad.
All those mornings you have missed for sleep. There are sunrises too beautiful to put into words but you have seen them before and you have so much time to look for more. You can’t appreciate the world with your eyes half open. You’re not lazy. You are tired, exhausted, in need of a break. Let yourself rest when you have the time. Snooze your alarm. Look after yourself.
For not replying when you had nothing left to say.
The days you let stretch effortlessly to nights. Where you danced with your chest open and your voice hushed and everything was reflected off the stars. Those nights where morning found you first when the whole city was sleeping but you were awake. The times you were laughing, smudged mascara walking home with your shoes in your hands and the sun in your eyes.
Asking questions. When you didn’t know the answer or something wasn’t right. Whoever decided that the active pursuit of knowledge was shameful and that questioning was a sign of weakness is not my ideal kind of human. Mainly because they are stupid. But you are not.
You. Everything that you are and that you represent. The bits of the world that have fused together to become you; the light tangled into your eyelashes, the words stuck underneath your tongue. Don’t apologise for the sand ingrained into your skin, the storms in your stomach, the rivers in your veins. Don’t apologise for needing to survive, for wanting to be happy, for failing when you have tried the best that you ever could.
There is a time and a place for sorry, but it isn’t always with you.
Happy October xx