Hell Risen, Earth Nurtured

Almost two hundred days, over two hundred times, my humanly capacity has lost count of how much layers of infernos I would need to pass in order to purify these cultivated sins.
My heart would ask: do I need constant reminders to have some faith, in myself, in who I love, in what I know is worth fighting for?
My brain would go: nothing is ever a coincidence, the chance, the signs, the plans are laid in front of your eyes.

Almost two hundred days, over two hundred times, uttering 'nothing has ever felt so right' has never sounded devastatingly, ever so beautiful.
My heart would tell: if you know this is the right thing to do, all you've got to do is believe in yourself. 
My brain would go: if you're smart and strong enough to survive all the debris of your shattered heart, you're smart and strong enough to work this out.

I have never asked for anything perfect - I just want to have what's meant to be mine.
No deceit, no facade, no masks or pretending to be, no luring in, no pushing and pulling, because for the longest time I have been tired. 
Exhausted to my bone. 
Sucked to the brim of my soul.
Disheveled to shreds and pieces, no matter how intact I appear to be.

But then you happen.

You. 
You are the best thing that happens this second.
You are the best thing that happens this month.
You are the best thing that happens this year.
You are the best thing that happens last year.
You are the best thing that happens this lifetime.
You are the best thing that happens to me.
You are the best.
You.

And then us happen.

Almost two hundred days, over two hundred times, and yet still, I am craving for another two hundred days, two hundred weeks, two hundred months, two hundred years, two hundred lifetimes, and laughters, and unraveled layers, and shared thoughts, and fears, and plans, and pillow talks, and conversation in between our sheets, and all that life has to offer for the two of us.
My brain would utter: this is the right one, the right thing to do, the right thing to feel - and most importantly, I no longer feel in denial about it.
My heart would whisper: sometimes what you settle for can be a little too less, sometimes what comes your way can be a little too much, and on rare occasions cracks and wounds fit each other so well that lights got in - to remind you of arrays of hope you thought was no longer there can.