Written by Daya Dodson
It was when the heart started to disintegrate from the chest. Where every word, touch, and embrace was recalled until this moment. A frantic and puzzled set of images replaying in a new perspective. No thoughts are left except embarrassment and emptiness.
It was four a.m., pressed against tear-stained pillowcases and hidden under blush-colored blankets. I realized I had lost peace of mind, and a part of myself was gone. All I could do was stare at a phone filled with words of misleading promises and thoughtless validation, hoping to find something lost in those dazed soliloquies.
It was at four a.m., counting the days since we had last spoken and days since we first met, that I realized I had lost peace of mind. An anxious individual was searching for a sense of security through inconsistency, hoping that this brief moment of separation was only temporary. It turns out it was vacillant.
Four a.m., words filled with pain, passion, and prosperity that sang of possibility from Lauryn Hill is what helped set me on my path of finding peace of mind. Someone who understands what it feels like only to feel love from memories because this person you put on a pedestal may now look at you as disposable. Someone who also calls on a higher power to help find forgiveness and forgetfulness because it’s so hard to take back your energy. Someone who can say the words fueled with pain deep down in your chest for you because they understand.
It was three p.m. on the train ride home, watching gentrification turn into isolation, that I started searching for peace of mind. No more endless readings of horoscopes, themed general messages, or promised divine timing would I continue to look. While sitting on a hard plastic seat, the surrounding energy, staring out dirty windows, next to tired faces with mysterious lives, told me to find the mystery in my own life.
It was three p.m., passing the station I caught on at whenever I would stay the night, I realized I had no other choice but to find peace of mind. So much thought given to someone who more than likely doesn’t have a thought where I reside. It would only be cruel to entertain further the idea that maybe what I just said wasn’t true.
After three p.m., those words of pain, passion, and prosperity that sang of possibility from Lauryn Hill are what stopped one less tear from shedding while pulling out of the train station for my daily journey back home. Someone who understands the unhealthy blurred line between a relationship and unwarranted ownership. Someone who has felt how hard it is to trust someone else when you are not sure you even trust yourself. When too many honey-glazed words from your past sound too familiar now and the actions speak otherwise.
I have got to continue to find peace of mind.
It was seven p.m, two weeks from a Friday, when I reflected on two weeks filled with soul searching, laughter, and a blend of sad and relieved tears, that I realized that there was peace of mind blossoming in myself again. Woman to woman talks with a loving mother who understood the patheticness I felt helped me change my mindset to look at this as a lesson learned and not a moment of weakness. To love with your fullest is something no one should ever feel ashamed of because it is admirable to have loved and tried than to have never loved or tried at all.
It was seven p.m. two weeks from a Friday when a notification appeared, not a text, but a last-minute reply to a funny video I sent. There was no need to respond. It takes two to tango, and for my betterment, it was time I stopped dancing. Protection of time and energy was the answer I needed.
Seven p.m.two weeks from a Friday were the words of Lauryn Hill that healed my broken heart and provided a sense of security.
To find peace of mind within oneself, one must not allow somebody else to be that peace of mind. When that person, for whatever reason, decides to take that peace away, what do you have left for yourself? Nothing but your vessel of a body because you gave too much.
To find peace is to understand that one is merciful and deserving of second chances because it is always possible. Maybe when a little voice says it’s impossible because it will, listen to some Lauryn Hill. Someone who understands.
Daya Dodson is a twenty-two-year-old artist from Stone Mountain, Georgia. She has a Bachelor of Science in Psychology from Kennesaw State University. She is currently in school for Film and Media at Georgia State University. She plans to further obtain a doctorate in Creative Writing and become a screenwriter and director. Writing, photography, reading, and painting are some of the hobbies she enjoys when she isn’t studying for school.