sol.ace_r

A single ball of tangled thread lay before me,
it was not just a simple object.
It was a condensed version of my life,
and the most complex map of my heart.
Layers upon layers of time were piled up within it,
and every emotion from the days I had lived
was tangled and intertwined like thread.
The pure dreams of childhood
were crushed under the weight of the world and lost their light,
and the thrill of first love
was torn apart by the pain of separation.
The deep betrayal I received from someone I trusted
became tight knots that would not loosen,
and the sharp words driven deep into my chest
cut through the strands, leaving wounds behind.
Moments of shame I wanted to run away from,
and even now, the shadows of trauma
that tighten around me in the darkness.
Fragments of the past, painful memories,
the anxieties of the present, and vague fears about the future.
All of it tangled together so tightly it felt suffocating,
compressed like a single massive rock.

The colors were just as chaotic and unpredictable.
The once clear sky blue was stained by dull gray and black,
losing its original light,
and the warm orange was overtaken
by cold navy and purple,
giving off a chilling presence.
The bright yellow that once symbolized hope
was covered by the black of despair
and the green of anxiety,
remaining only as a faint afterimage.
So many colors were mixed together,
yet not a single one could shine properly,
all of them dull and dark, like heavy shadows.
When I touched it, it felt rough and stiff,
and every time my fingertips brushed against it,
a sharp pain surged up.
As if I were directly touching
the deepest wound inside myself.
This is me.
The truth hidden in the deepest part of my heart.
The tangled thread cried out silently,
yet clearly and powerfully.

Where should I begin.
In front of this huge and complicated tangle,
I felt endlessly small and powerless.
After sighing dozens of times in helplessness,
realizing I could no longer put it off,
I carefully grabbed a single strand at the edge.
Afraid it might snap if I pulled too hard,
or burrow deeper inside
and trap me in a maze I could never escape,
my hands trembled with fear and anxiety.
My heart pounded rapidly,
and cold sweat ran down my spine.
Still, gathering my courage,
one strand at a time, searching for the knots,
with the tips of my nails, gently, very gently,
as if handling fragile shards of glass,
no, even more carefully than that, I began to loosen them.

Each time I loosened a knot,
painful scenes from the past passed by vividly,
as if they had happened just yesterday.
Faces I wanted to forget,
words that echoed painfully in my ears,
moments stained with regret and self-blame…
It felt not like the thread was being untangled,
but like buried painful memories
were coming back to life to torment me.
My eyes filled with tears,
and my hands kept hesitating.
Sometimes it hurt so much
that I wanted to let go of everything,
to stop this painful work
and hide back in the darkness.

Whenever that happened, I whispered to myself.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s okay to cry.”
“It hurt, didn’t it? It was hard, wasn’t it? But you’ve made it this far. You did so well.”
“It’s not your fault. You did your best.”
“When you untangle this thread, you’ll meet a stronger and more beautiful you. I promise.”
“You are strong enough, and you can do anything. There are infinite possibilities inside you.”
The warm and sincere words I gave myself
were the only light
that allowed me to endure this lonely and exhausting process,
the strength that lifted me back up.
Sometimes my voice trembled,
sometimes I sobbed through my tears,
but I kept talking to myself.

But sometimes, it felt unbearably frustrating.
No matter how much I untangled, there seemed to be no end.
Just when I thought I had loosened one knot,
another part felt even more tightly tangled.
Feeling exhausted and discouraged, as if I were only standing still,
I wanted to throw everything away.
This wretched tangle,
this painful ball of thread,
I wanted to cut it apart
and leave nothing behind.
A destructive impulse surged over me,
like a wave,
the desperate desire to escape this pain and confusion
and simply become peaceful shook me deeply.
My hands lost their strength,
and the temptation to give up whispered to me.

Still, I moved my hands again.
Trusting the part of me that refuses to give up.
Slowly but steadily, without stopping, I continued to untangle it.
Each time a tiny knot came undone,
a small light seemed to seep into my heart,
like finding a single ray of light in the darkness,
like feeling warm sunlight inside a cold cave.
The tangled threads slowly found their proper places,
and the rough, stiff texture softened little by little.
The dull colors, too,
seemed to regain their original vivid and beautiful light.
Red burned hotter, blue grew deeper, yellow shone brighter.
Like a small hope blooming within pain,
healing approached me slowly and quietly,
but clearly and unmistakably.

Now the threads lay long without knots.
Soft and flexible threads that no longer hurt.
Countless colors blended harmoniously,
shining beautifully.
So this was me.
The me who endured countless pains, wounds, and confusion,
and finally managed to untangle myself.
Holding the long thread in my hands,
with a pounding heart, I began to imagine.
These threads are no longer shackles that bind me.
They have become materials
to express me,
to shape me.

What should I make with these threads.
Not the me bound by past pain,
but the me who can now move freely
and create anything.
Should I weave a warm future.
Should I carefully stitch, one by one,
happy and precious moments
to share with the people I love.
Or should I build
a solid and unshakable castle of dreams.
Should I write my one and only story
with this thread.
Should I create a beautiful pattern
and make clothes just for myself.
Or knit a warm scarf
for someone who has lost their way.
Any shape is fine.
Now, I can begin again
in whatever way I choose.
Like the untangled thread,
my life will begin again as well.
Pain will heal, wounds will close,
and in their place
strength and beauty will remain.
With this thread,
I will patiently create, one strand at a time,
my own radiant and dazzling future.
So it will never tangle again,
so it will never hurt again,
only in my own colors.