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The year of letting go, of forgiveness. Of acceptance. Of heartbreaking healing. Of understanding my physical body. Of breakthrough. The year of aching loss. But fulfilling friendship. Of the words “How can I?” instead of “I can’t”. The year the blue eyes faded. And the dark eyes made their homecoming to my heart. The year of connection with my innermost being. Of passionate love, not for a man, but for a country. The year of dance. Of whipping my hair around and around until the dizziness of life faded. The year where I was alone, and loved myself for it. But the year of confusion, back and forth back and forth. The year of pleasure. Silliness. Rowdiness. And mistakes. Of words I cannot take back but hugs that remain forever. The year of gradual success. Of the sun shining down on my thoughts. The year of humility, humbleness. Of breaking down to my knees. The year of reality. Of wildness beyond. A path undiscovered. The year of words, escaping my mouth and onto paper like honey or pure poison. Of saving creatures, brokenness and myself. Of miracles blooming like flowers in my eyes called friends and sisters. Of fires in my soul. And on my body. Of exotic love and feeling it. The year my best friend had a baby. And my brother proposed to the woman of his dreams. The year I smiled at every stranger. And cried in the company of them too. The year where my heart learnt.. that every tomorrow is a new beginning. #writtenbycelia