T r u s t F a l l

words by Liah Chung, art by Danielle Zhang

It’s so easy to 

fall in love

when you’ve never loved yourself

It’s so easy to

pretend you feel safe in someone else’s arms

when you’ve spent your entire life pretending you feel safe at home

It’s so easy to

j u m p

when you believe someone will catch you

It’s so easy to

lie to yourself

when you’ve spent your whole life lying to everyone else.

My father says, 

“I’m sorry”

—I hear his remorse, and I know his own past is just as painful as mine, that we both had fathers who broke us—

and gives me a gift

and a hug

and I think my family might just survive

My mother begs,

“Please, I want to understand.”

—She is my mom, and she loves me—

and wipes my tears

and asks me to tell her why I am sad

and I think I might be able to get better

My sister promises, 

“Yeah, we can work on it”

—She sounds like she means it, and she is also crying—

and we joke about my gynecologist

and I think we might be able to start over

My friend whispers, 

“I love you”

—Which are words I’ve never heard before and had them meant—

and buys my dinner

and holds my hand

and I think I’ve fallen in love

It’s so easy

to fall in love.

Suspended mid-air, I am caught between the reality I know and the truth I cannot admit.

My eyes are squeezed shut, and my fists are clenched together so tightly that I can feel the little crescents of my nails digging into my skin.

I haven’t hit the ground yet, but I already know I have broken something.  At the same time though, it is relieving to feel the impact.  To know that it’s all real, that this is how the world works, and I was never someone worth saving.

and no one catches me.

So I jump, 

and then I fall

Through the dull of my eyelids, I search for myself, but all I see are black pools, which reflect all the darkness but myself around me back to me

I guess without the blessing of another next to me, I am as invisible as the new moon.

Did I j u m p to conclusions?  

Did I j u m p to an emotion I had no right to feel?  

I swerve 

and I

  dart 

around the maze of my mistakes, 

my

shame.

I am so cold, and I am so tired, and I wish I could see myself as I truly am.

I want to be complete

without having to hold someone else’s hand

and give them all my heart

I am tired

of empty promises

of being forced to clean up the mess other people make of me

of putting my heart on the line and never having anyone else risk theirs for mine

I hear devilish whispers: you should have learned this, since your father first lied to you

since your mother second let him

since you sister third left you

since that boy fourth fooled you.

Now my body is shattered, and my heart is broken, and the oxygen has run out

But I suppose I had to bleed in order to bloom

Because now I have found

that others’ tears do not mean sadness

and sadness does not make anyone worthy of forgiveness.

So knowing this, I take my own hand and I kiss my own cheek, and I tell myself:

at least now I know 

for real this time

that no one is going to catch me.

I wedge my hands into my heart, and I grab at its edges, and I pull myself up, and once I have made it to the ground, I stare back down the well, 

and I wonder if the rush will be worth the impact.  

So then I j u m p, 

then I fall, 

and then… 

I catch myself.

There are things you need, and there are people you do not

There are bridges you must build, and there are bridges you must burn

Never let the glimpses into other people’s hearts make you forget your own

You know nothing of love until they have shown you

So gather your shadows and your tears and see how they shift and shape into the indentations of who you are

You are not just a body, not just a heart, not just a daughter, a sister, or a child

You are all those things but so much more: intangible, undefinable, undefiable

You don’t need a pool of shadows to tell yourself you’re beautiful.  

Close your eyes and j u m p

and catch yourself.

You catch

yourself before you

catch anyone else.