Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
« Mary Elizabeth Frye // 1932 »
It’s hard never really feeling like I belong anywhere. I grew up being somewhat of a nomad, bouncing from friend group to friend group, finding friends everywhere, but at the same time, never having a solid group to call my own. Sure, there were people that I was closer to, but they had their closer friends and I was just the fleeting one. And even then, sometimes I felt like I was the friend that everyone secretly hated. I’ve never really fit in perfectly, but I’m adaptable enough to survive anywhere. I guess I can’t complain about that too much because I’m sure there are tons of people who wish they were able to just glide into social situations and feel comfortable, but the truth of the matter is that it’s hard. All anyone really wants to feel is like they’re accepted and that they belong, but I just haven’t quite found it yet.
A Prayer to God: let me find the peace of wholehearted acceptance in friends. Because as winter approached and vitamin D becomes scarce, I think I’m going to need it.