Falling Back in Love...

I couldn't even tell you what poem it was, who wrote it, or the message behind it. That's how unimportant it seems. But, whatever poem it was, it was the first domino to fall, leading me back to a love; actually many loves, I had left behind.

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I always loved reading. My mom instilled this love in me before I could speak. It probably wasn't that evident at first; reading time was nearly impossible for me because I would not stay still. I preferred to run all around the house or out in the green grass barefooted. By the time I started school, though, reading became one of the few times my mother could keep me still, even if it was for a minute.

Reading became an escape, a way to travel to far-off and fantasy lands, and a stepping block to writing my own fictional stories. While I greatly despised the seemingly endless grammar rules and tremendously struggled with spelling, I fell in love with creating characters and the harrowing adventures they would go on. My mother said once that very imagination influenced my dreams. My vivid imagination generated unrealistic scenarios that were more suited for an action-filled blockbuster than a child's dream or nightmare. It took me longer to enjoy poetry at the same level as fiction, but in time, I thrived on the word pictures poetry painted.

But somewhere along the way, between growing up and a long list of darkening events, I closed the doors on reading and writing, only participating in either if I had to. It wasn’t until the middle of the COVID pandemic that things changed.

Let’s be honest. COVID broke me. Or more it showed I was already filled with cracks and COVID was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The added stress of worrying about bring a disease that was killing millions back home and my extra workload was a lot. I would come home exhausted, depressed, and wanting nothing to do with anyone. At first, I tried to numb the feeling with television, falling deeply into the plot late into the night when the stress wouldn’t let me sleep. But in time, that didn’t work either. In fact, it made me even more withdrawn.

Then I read the poem. God, I wish I could remember what it was about, or at the very least, the author who wrote it so I could thank them. That poem broke down whatever walls I had built up, blocking the rest of me from the child in love with reading and writing. But, at that moment and up until recently, I didn’t realize the impact those words had on me, because like a fool, I subconsciously ignored the little girl screaming at me to let her be free.

I think a couple of weeks passed before I finally listened to her. It was after a particularly hard day at work, and I was trapped in my room with all my thoughts. The reflex in me to fall into the habit of binging television all through the night was triggered. The little girl in me was triggered too though, for she delved into the land of make-believe, poetry, and writing both to escape her troubles. That day, she won in the end. I picked up my phone, not to watch a show or movie, but to open my notes app and allow my words to flow from my head to my fingers. Soon, I had filled them with lines that didn’t rhyme, but were poetic in their own way. And for the first time in a while, I truly felt free from my pain.

The dominos fell in quicker succession after that day. I wrote poem after poem after poem, bought and read as much poetry as I could get my hands on. After the course of a year, I had a growing stack of poetry books next to my bed, and a collection of my own poems in my Google Drive. I started to compete in poetry contests so I could share my work with others, and later worked on my first poetry collection to independently publish later. But there was something missing; I had become so absorbed in poetry that I forgot about fictional books and writing. Downloading two popular book apps, doom scrolling through TikTok, and purchasing an e-book reader quickly changed that for me. However, unlike my younger self, I struggled with coming up with original ideas for writing.

Cue Vocal +. The challenges pushed me out of my comfort zone and reignited my initial desire for writing in a fictional context. Even though I haven’t won a challenge, I do feel like I did win this – I am in my mid 20’s, finally doing something I never thought I would have the bravery or desire to do. I no longer feel permanently trapped in a dark place, and when I am having a bad day, I have a creative way to pull myself out. My inner child doesn’t feel disregarded as much anymore and I feel more whole than I have for a while. I can read to my heart’s content and not feel like it is a necessity, but a want in life. I may never be an award-winning author or poet, but I am determined to keep writing, even if it is just for myself.

Because I have fallen back in love with reading and creating fictional and poetic pieces, and I am not going to give it up again.

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Here is one of my favorite pieces: