A Meraki Writer

Gale force winds swept my life off track. 

I tried and tried but couldn’t get back

The girl I knew was no longer, blown away by life’s tempest.

All that remained was a shell of who I once was

This storm was never-ending.

Exhaustion flooded into every crevice, deep into my bones.

Anger of betrayal, sadness of loss, hopelessness of ever 

finding my way out.

I struggled for years whilst the world moved on as if nothing was happening. 

Bitterness overtook me. I could feel my soul as it turned the same color as the sky above 

me.

I hate myself, I hate who I’m becoming, I hate what I’ve done.

I don’t blame them for what they did to me

I deserved it.

I deserved everything and more…

There’s no more fight left in me.

Here I stand, in the middle of the hurricane, and willed it to take me.

My thoughts swirled about in my mind faster than the storm that encompassed me

Self hate, self loathing, self disgust.

My vision began to blur. A spinning sensation overtook my being as if I was stuck on a merry-go-round. 

My body crashed to the ground. The dark swallowed me whole. I dreamt of a beautiful oasis. 

There I stood overlooking a vast body of water. Its waves glistening in the

Sun. The warm rays of light sunk into my skin. A feeling I once loved, now numb to its sweet

touch.

I lost myself in the delicate rhythm of the waves as the ocean breathed in and out.

A familiar giggle broke my trance. It had been so long since I had heard that 

laugh. It could not be possible though…I cautiously turned towards the sound.

My eyes beheld a child with flowing white hair, she was building a sandcastle.

The girl stopped playing and looked up at me. Our eyes made contact. Her eyes, the color

of sea glass, held captive a plethora of emotions. I could feel every single one of them, for that

child is me…was me. Years and years ago. It felt like an eternity. Almost as if it was never my life.

That little girl kept so much inside. I knew what her future had in store and there 

was nothing I could do to change it. A tear escaped from my eye. I had let her down. This is not 

the life we had dreamt up for us. My tears flowed freely now. “I’m sorry.” My apology was barely

audible. She walked over to me, grabbed my hand, and gave me a comforting smile. Kneeling down to

her level, I placed my hand on her cheek. We spoke to each other without saying a word.

I knew what she wanted. “I don’t want to go on.” I said, my voice cracking. 

She placed her tiny hand on my right temple. Visions of familiar children calling my name

as they ran into my arms played on repeat. They were not mine, these children were gifts from my siblings.

Blessings I didn’t realize I needed.

I closed my eyes tightly, the tears continued to rain down my cheeks. 

When I opened my eyes, my younger self was smiling.

“You were always so strong. I don’t feel that strength anymore.” I stammered.

She grabbed my face with both her hands and said in her soft voice, “You still are.” 

“I let you down. This is not who I wanted us to be.”

“You protected us the best you could,” she reassured me with her meek voice.

Memories flooded my head. All the times I hadn’t stood up for

myself, for the little girl in front of me. All the things that I had allowed to make me bitter 

and angry. 

“Failure. Failure.” A voice repeated in my head over and over. “I just want it to stop.” I 

looked at the child with pleading eyes.

The visions of the joyful children running to me with outreached arms returned and played 

on a never-ending loop. I smiled as their little voices chanted my name. I gave a sad smile to 

the little girl before me. “They need me, don’t they?” The green-eyed girl smiled and 

nodded. “Thank you….I’m…I’m so sorry.” The little girl wrapped her arms around me in 

the biggest  bear hug her little arms could muster. The wind picked up and swept the 

mirage away. Here I was again lying in the middle of the hurricane. The vision of my 

nieces and nephews continued to play on repeat, fighting for top billing over the thoughts 

of my failures. They never saw me for who I believed myself to be. Those children loved 

me, and I never could figure out why. Yet when it comes to humans, we won’t ever be able to find a more pure,

and honest love than that which come from children.

I slowly sat up, fighting the winds of the storm. I struggled to get on my feet. I battled the 

storm looking for the glimmer of hope shining through the clouds. Running now with what 

little energy I had left. My heart stopped as I stepped down only to find nothing there. I 

caught myself from taking a nasty fall down a hundred foot cliff.

An angry sea rising and crashing against the side. As the waves retreated back into the ocean it revealed a hidden

field of jagged boulders, before crashing into the cliff again. Temptation rose up inside me, 

along with self-hatred and loneliness. A terribly dangerous mix. I lifted my foot and let it 

hover over the empty space in front of me. As I began to step down I felt a small tug on my 

shirt. I turned to see a little brown-eyed girl around two years old. She said my name in the 

most innocent, loving way. Her eyes pleading, questioning what I was doing. I swept her up in my arms and ran away 

from the danger of the ledge on which we stood. Once we reached a safer place her hug 

faded, leaving me alone once again. Out of the corner of my eye I saw it. It was 

beautiful. The sun, shining bright and clear. I ran towards it ignoring all the voices urging 

me to turn around. I had done it, I found the eye of the storm. I tripped as I reached the 

center, skinning my knees and arms. I laid where I had fallen with no 

intention of moving. The sunlight kissed my skin and filled me with hope. I soaked it in 

knowing the storm would reach me again. But for now I was content knowing there was chance at a different life.

Hiraeth: ….a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.

“I’m not so sure that the adult within me teaches the child within me. Rather, I think that the child does most of the educating.” ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough