When Someone Shows You Who They Are...Believe Them

Twice I’ve fallen; once from heaven, then again from faith. And at the first fall I believe I knew who I was from the beginning, and knew the person I desired to be. I was on the right track. Sensitive in mind but strong-willed; muted in voice but full-mouthed in opinion; quick to criticize but first to applaud; willing to branch out but unwilling to leave room for disappointment; warm and caring with a quiet confidence. My person flew high and my spirit with it.

Then somewhere along the way I took my second fall. Call it a figurative amnesia, where the utter fear of disappointment, the unbearable pestilence of criticism, became despotic. I’d an inability to fly, for from my fall I found my wings broken. And an angel cannot fly without wings.

Now, some angels convince themselves of their satanic guise, they’ve fallen and believe in their unfixable wings. For some don’t believe in the value of themselves. Some angels are meant to fix their own wings. Some fall with such buoyancy that they may never hit the ground; because all angels may fall victim to falling. But it is in their nature to fly. And it is in their nature to care and love and desire the same.

Angels must fly in pairs. And with such care and warmth and affection, their courage is complementary, it’s balanced and it’s meaningful, it’s happy. And from there they both fly higher.

I found my complement, my angel. And at first I didn’t find him fitting for me. I believed in another. But our beings weren’t a match. Still I pushed my rightful angel away. But he never left me, unconsciously proving himself to be just what I needed.

Almost overnight I realized that he was my angel. And in the presence of this entity I discovered veritable happiness, a happiness that I had never felt before.

But the amnesic damage was stayed too long. So while happiness was strong, guilt lingered. And I felt as if this happiness I had was most undeserving.

I wanted to fall a third time; perhaps, my amnesia would take its leave, my memory would return; I didn’t deserve to fly. Flying is for angels. And with this fall my wings could no longer be fixed. This time I would never be able to find my way back up from where dreams were destitute and punishments deserved.

I was poised at the ready, my mind made up given the go ahead. And with the whistle blown I tripped myself, banged my head against a wall, but I did not fall; for the thought of my angel returned. And I knew he could not fly without me. There is where my memory returned – when I remembered my angel.

I’d like to believe that some are angels. As of now I simply believe in the reverent eminence of some – that blessed faction that have the mind and the means to fix their hearts and minds. And know that perfection is impossible. And realize we live on earth, not in heaven; therefore mistakes are only natural. We mistake so we can learn; and we learn so we can grow.