Waterproof

I may never know her,
The girl I’d always hoped to be

Dancing,
smiling
free.

You held me underneath the water
          d r o w n e d me in your unresolved sorrow   

year, 
after year, 
after year.

Oh, what I would give to finally b r e a t h e.

To feel the air in my lungs,

Flowing in and out of me,

And meanwhile, you —
you think I am blind
as if I don’t see the lies behind your disguise, 
and the fear in your weary eyes.

You are not as strong as you say
you cannot keep the waves at bay 
Weeping as you sink,

Deeper,
and deeper,
and deeper
into the depths of the pain you thought you could resist.

Your mask slowly begins to wear off,  
Exposing the fragility of the story you’ve always told
The one that makes you feel bigger than me.

Yet, I watch as it pulls you back    
Down to the earth,
Don’t you see — you are made from the dust

just
like
  me?


You are not immune to life’s crashing waves
Never far from from my side in the depths of its current
As we both gasp for the very same air


Your arms flailing as you l a u g h —
Echoes of a lonely, desperate man
With a contagious smile

 
Who was once was told to be quiet, too
             it almost ruined you,
and you could not bear the weight of it

So you ruined me, too.

I want to know if it was worth it
          to suffocate the very life from my bones
          so that you wouldn’t feel alone?

To call me names
         as if we don’t all have the same        
blood flowing through our veins?

The tide is calming now,
     the storm settles in, 
        Together, we breathe. 

And through my tear-washed eyes,
         I notice my reflection in yours
              Seeing you clearer than ever before

You have always concealed the reality of your essence
Desperately trying to hide who you really are
Funny how it all revealed the truth

Your mask isn’t w a t e r p r o o f.

My Brain: Behind the Scenes

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,
“Pure O” as they call it …
Well there’s nothing pure about it!

It isn’t the kind of thing where I must wash my hands a certain amount of times
Or put my shoes in order by color
In a straight line

It’s madness of a different kind!

It’s intrusive thoughts about everything I fear
Death, trauma, harm, you name it, it’s there
Never stops, and doesn’t seem to care

It’s thoughts like, “are the chemicals in the air going to kill me?” every time I walk into a room
Or, “what if I stab myself with this knife?” every time I try to cook
And, “what if I pass out because I’m so hungry” when I don’t have blood sugar issues
Or, “what if I have a heart attack” as I constantly check my pulse

And it isn’t merely a thought here and there throughout the day
It’s a life where not a second goes by that my brain is not constantly put to the test
And there’s absolutely no rest

It’s bodily symptoms that suddenly appear
Based on whatever disease it is today that I fear
It’s anxiety so distressing I want to drive myself off the road
But then I can’t tell if it’s ME that wants to
Or if it’s just my brain that’s broke?

It’s the horror music in the background of a completely normal life
From the outside it’s great
But I really just want to hide
From the thoughts that haunt
And the anxiety that taunts
And the hard work it takes to attempt to recover

To teach myself that the music is just sound
That the horror isn’t real
It’s just this part of myself
That needs a lot of tenderness
And focus and care
To feel like I am finally getting somewhere

Shades of Red

I remember it so vividly, the time I spilled that glass of wine all over your mom’s white tablecloth on Thanksgiving day —

Right in the middle of dinner, as the Turkey was being passed around, absolute chaos ensued! The women rushed toward me to clean, gasping and saying, “it’s okay, honey!”
As it seeped onto the white carpet at my feet

I simply sat there, stunned.

As it all sunk in.

Showed me why I don’t fit in.

You see, I am not clean cloth draped over a solid antique wood table, chandelier gleaming over head,
Silverware made of gold
Napkins folded perfectly into shapes

I am the crushed grapes!
Dripping onto the clean, freshly vacuumed floor
I am the spills and the “oops” and the “I’m sorry!” and the “I didn’t mean to!”


Don’t you get it? I didn’t mean to be me!
I didn’t mean to forget, and to make a mess, and to always be running late
To make choices that were constantly not too great

I didn’t mean to disappoint you
I didn’t mean to be too much
I didn’t mean to be the one who stains everything that was once white

I didn’t mean to never be “right.”

But I see it all so clearly, now
In the blood that was shed from this pale, battle-torn skin of mine
I see the glory of the pain that brought me here, and the beauty of me that you have always refused to see   

And you may never know the swirling patterns of magic in it all,
Of pure cloth dipped in wine
Of something mundane spread with deep shades of red

All you know is how to seem pure, and perfect, and “holy …”


But maybe true communion with God is found in the red wine spilt a l l o v e r m e.

Metamorphosis

I wonder what the world would be like
If people like you were capable of watching a butterfly escape from a cocoon
Without begging it to go back inside its silk covering

Sure, the chrysalis was once my home, my resting place as I grew my wings
But wasn’t I born to fly?
My larval features weren’t meant to stay broken down — but I guess you like it that way

You say it is for my protection!
You say you don’t want me destroyed by the elements!
The world, the demons, the influences of the secular around me

The opinions, the thinking for myself
The sin that sends me to that terrible place called hell!
You want me small, you want me holy, you want me pure

Do you not know that insects only stay in the cocoon for an average of 5-21 days?
My time has been up for a long while now!
With wings that seem to stand still — because that’s all they’ve ever known

It is scary to move, to leave this cocoon, but I cannot escape the metamorphosis!
I will not remain within these walls
I am not sorry, because there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it now

My wings are beginning to move, to flutter
My heart is starting to expand, to mutter the words
“I am who I am,” and oh, isn’t that enough? Aren’t I enough?

There are times I miss the safety of the swaddle
I miss being wrapped in predictability and warmth
But I have to become new, I must become new!

Even if it scares me to death,
Even if it tears me away from everything I used to be,
Tears me away from you.

The Monster Has a Name

I want to be free
From the girl who suffocates me

From the monster who steals my breath and swears to never give it back

Locks it up,
Throws out the key.


Free!
What would it be like to be free?


Sometimes she takes my will to live along with everything I hope I could be
Then leaves me in an eerie fog 

Where light tries to shine
But can never penetrate the smoke 

Where dreams are almost dreamt 
Then one by one they shatter into tiny, 

little, 

broken, 

pieces 

on the floor.


Free?
I want to be free! Please take this curse away from me!

She haunts my mind,
My body,
My soul,

And she does have a name, you see!
But I’m too scared to say it
Because she is the part that I wish didn’t exist in me


She is the monster I wish would stay under my bed
She is the thoughts I wish would live out of my head 


And even still, she’s so much closer than that,
Far too close

God, I even see her sad eyes when I look in the mirror!

The horror of her slight smile
The mystery of her lifeless body

She threatens to take everything from me
A liar, a dirty thief!

But alas, so am I
I’m the one who covers up her crimes
And keeps her identity unknown

 
Keeps my identity unknown 

Her name is d e p r e s s i o n —
And she is me. 

me.

“No one is coming to save you.
No one is coming to save you.
No one is coming to save you.”

I tell myself this over and over and over again.

It comes up with every new (old) theme that arises in this god-forsaken life I am living.

“No one is coming to save you today.
No one is coming to save you today.
No one is coming to save you today.

From the idea that you are unwanted.
That you are not desired.
That you are not special.”

I remind myself now that the feeling of being unseen is engrained so deeply in my psyche that there is no human who could even uncover the barriers, no matter how long and hard they dig.

I’ve spent a lot of years begging them to.

But now I know it’s me.
I’m coming to save me.
I’m doing the work and the digging and uncovering and —

I am d i s c o v e r i n g.

You.

Someone asked me what inspires me to write, to sing, to make lyrical art,
And I realized that most often it’s the heavy things


Amidst the darkness when I’m scrambling to find my way,
Digging deep for any inspiration I can uncover in my psyche,
As my own words become a light to guide my path.

Other times, it’s the incredible experiences,

When I’m high on the goodness of life,
When I can’t not speak of it
As the words seep onto the pages
(otherwise I’ll explode!)



But then, there is you,
Somewhere amidst the highs and lows
And I’m speechless, there 

In the place where I try to find the words,
Attempt to make them drip onto to this page before me,
From my heart, from my soul, with this pen

But these feelings, oh these feelings —
Language just won’t do   

to all the ones she’s begged to stay

Stay
Please stay
But only if you want to 

Only if the risk it takes
To jump off the edge of love with her
Is one you will take with your whole heart 

Only if she does not have to beg you
Not for one second
To love her the way she deserves to be loved

Please stay
Not because she asked you to
Or because she said it politely 

But because it is a love that makes you want to be better
That makes you grow and transform
That brings you strength even in the chaos

Because you know that when things get hard
You can be on the same team
You can overcome

Please stay
But only if you choose to
Because she does not have it in her to ask you even one more time

Not one

Voice

I don’t want to remember the ways you were good to me
How you spoke to me softly and gently
How you said you wanted to love me the way I deserved 

Because something stopped you
And I still don’t really understand 

How you could look at me
As I dared to embrace a soul as tormented as yours
And yet, leave me wanting 

Leave me wishing that our laughter was not so innocent
That your eyes didn’t look so deeply into mine
That we didn’t fool ourselves into thinking we were good for each other

And I often wish none of it happened
In hopes that I could erase every pain that surfaced in your presence
And all of the good things along with it

But it seems that I cannot wish you away — because you changed me
Nor can I be the girl I was
Before the day I found you

It’s just that sometimes I miss her,
How she danced carelessly without your words ringing in her ears
Words that spoke of how she was not beautiful enough for you 

Sure, she knows now, that she is more than enough in every way
But your words still echo
In the distance 

And I hope someday they will subside
As her own voice begins to carry much louder than yours
Proclaiming every single good thing found in her, found in me

Gasoline

L i s t e n

Every once in a while, I miss the way things were
Because that is what connection does to a beating heart 

But I am careful to leave him where he belongs


Yes, he is human
A man who feels ruined
And I weep at the thought of it 

But I am careful to leave him where he belongs


They say it’s okay to be friends
With the one who hurt me the most
The one whose hands I know as intricately as my own 

But the truth is that the essence of the way our hearts mix together will always, always be gasoline.


It cannot help but set ablaze with even the smallest spark — a hug, a laugh, a conversation
And I no longer enjoy love that is fire in the dark


I crave the sunshine and laughter and the calm of a light breeze against my face
Not the kind that goes up in f l a m e s. 

The Woman Who

If logic could have the lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders
Believe me,
I would have put her to work a long time ago

She is the one who runs your brain, I know
Helping you do what makes the most sense
And you want me to make sense

But I am, quite frankly, chaos
In all of it’s beauty and wonder
And do not need to be spoken to as if I am anything less than brave

Or as a project to fix
Or a sculpture to mold
I am the woman who does not do as she is told

I am the woman who does not do as she is told.

The “Thankful” Hat

I remember when I bought this hat last summer.  I had just gone through a horrible break up and had never known a pain like that before. 

I was kind of surprised at how much it hurt because I had already been through some extremely hard things in life. But this felt like the pinnacle of them all, bringing along with it pieces of grief from many other past experiences, too. 

I was out of town at the time and was trying to have a relaxing vacation with myself, but “wherever I go, there I am” (as the sayings goes). So I was still struggling heavily and feeling even more lonely than I was back home.

I tried to enjoy and distract myself by spending time at the lake, exploring downtown, etc., and I realized at one point that I needed a hat. So, I popped into a local clothing shop and this was the ONLY one they had. A hat that read “thankful” across the front during a time in my life when I most definitely didn’t feel thankful for anything. Zero ounces of gratitude.

Sure, I could somewhat acknowledge somewhere in me that there were things to be grateful for, but it wasn’t within reach. My body wouldn’t let me hold onto it. The pain was too heavy to even think about anything else. 

The whole choosing to be grateful even when you don’t feel it is something that’s talked a lot about lately in self-healing circles, and was also addressed a lot growing up Christian. On and off in my life, I’ve forced my self to write gratitude lists and say what I’m celebrating and thankful for. It can be helpful. And, there’s even a lot of research about the science of the “vibration of gratitude” and how if you practice it (no matter how you feel), you’ll get certain results where you eventually embody it, bringing a lot of healing. Whether that would have worked for me or not at the time, I don’t know.

But what I see now is that what I had been seeking was a more embodied sense of gratitude. One that I could actually feel in my nervous system. One that stuck for more than 10 seconds. One that wasn’t manufactured. One that was birthed from feeling through the pain, not avoiding it.

So, there I was in my “thankful” hat.

Not thankful. 

And every time I looked at it, I was just so mad.

Fast forward to this year. I put that hat on a few months ago and I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t angry at it anymore. And I realized that this summer, I had finally, for the first time in my life, experienced embodied gratitude. The kind that sticks for more than 10 seconds. It even lasted days at times. The kind where you’re so in the moment that nothing in the past or future even matters.

I have put so much work into my inner healing these last few years and I thought I would never have more than a few moments of feeling okay. It has just been so brutal. And sometimes I still feel like I’m getting nowhere. Sometimes still I feel too broken for love and relationships and for accomplishing dreams and all of the things I desire in life.

But all of it is okay. 

Life is so multi-faceted. 

And I am grateful now that in the many moments where I did not want to live, or the months to years spent depressed and unable to even smile, or the decades where I faked it to appease those around me — something in me kept inching me forward, kept doing the small thing, the baby step. 

And I learned this year that all of it counts. There really is no small step. And sometimes (most of the time), the steps are messy. There’s so much I still don’t understand. 

I’m just trying to to learn like, ya know: how to handle triggers, how to be an adult, how to eat more than air fryer chicken wings every night, how to apologize and repair relationships even when it feels like it’s the end of the world, how to set boundaries without pushing people away, how to choose friendships wisely, how to be genuine to my own spiritual journey, how to disappoint people and still be okay, how to honor my body’s needs, how to push myself just enough (but not too much), how to be more kind, how to accept my ADHD quirks and work with them (not against them), how to do things like change my oil, how to rest (but not too much, how to, just — do all the things.

Man, being human is hard. Especially when I want to be the best one I can be. But I cannot always be that. Which is okay. No one is perfect. There is so much grace.

And even though I wish the growth could go faster, and I wish that I could rush it, I know that just isn’t an option.

But one thing I do know is that sometimes you can buy a hat that says “thankful” on it, and you can hate it and be angry at it for an entire year, until one day you don’t hate it anymore. And suddenly, many months later, you can put it on and actually feel grateful, you can sport that hat genuinely, and for the first time in your life, feel an embodied sense of gratitude that is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. 

Moon

I didn’t know it would catch me —
I’ve been screaming, and begging, and swearing it would never end, this downward fall
But gravity had other plans
And landed me here.

As I made my way down to the ground,
The Earth stretched out her hands to cradle my gentle body
Whispering in my ear about the healing power of nature’s force
As I whispered back in agreement, telling her how the Moon made me cry,

It always makes me cry.

I wonder what I ever did to deserve this newfound sense of peace,
And then I wonder why I think I ever have to deserve a thing,
As I recall how the dirt beneath my dirt-ridden feet holds electrons that give life to my own

And it doesn’t matter what I’ve done.

I am not apologizing anymore
For the things that move me
God is not merely present with those who wrap the Divine in nicely shaped boxes
Nor does the Spirit whisper only into the ears of those with plastered-on smiles.

“But His existence is here within these four walls!” they cry,
And so did I
Before I discovered God in the roots of the trees
And began to see magic in the eyes of every person I meet.

Isn’t it ironic,
That what feels like a fall from grace is the very thing that landed me fully here?
The place where the Earth holds me close
And the Moon makes me cry,

It always makes me cry.

First Kiss

Tonight I walked a trail I had not been to in years, the one where we had our first kiss on a warm October night in the woods —

As I made my way through the trees, alone this time, I thought back to that evening with you

How it was the very the first moment that my lips had touched anyone else’s, and how they chose to touch yours (twice)

In the parking lot after we hiked around the lake, as the greens and blues of the trees and the water popped with color —

The place where I told you why I love reflections so much.

Before that day, I had never gone into detail about why I found something to be beautiful, because isn’t that that the point — it doesn’t need to be explained or make logical sense? 

In that moment I almost felt as if I had to convince you that it was pretty —

But I welcomed the challenge as an opportunity to share what beauty means to the eyes of this beholder, while also entering the brain space of another so different than I 

To show you how amazing it is that “photographs of reflections look the same way upside-down as they do right-side-up, isn’t that so cool?!”

And to see how much it blew your mind, and how you saw into my world, too.

I knew you were so opposite of me in most ways, maybe that’s why I longed for you 

But my god I was naive about just how different we were —

And yet, all of the qualities in you that were the opposite of mine, reflected back to me everything I needed to learn, just like that scene had reflected onto the water — so different, yet somehow one and the same.

I see now that it was our differences that expanded us the most — they were the reason why one year together felt like twelve, why hugging for a few minutes felt like an eternity, 

And why every single day, you taught me more lessons about the world, about love, about life than I can even fathom or could have learned in a lifetime on my own.

First you taught me how to kiss, 

Then you taught me how to love,

Then you taught me how to truly listen —

But the hardest part of all was when you eventually taught me what it means to care so deeply, so profoundly for someone you love

That you choose to let them go.

Heartbeat of the Wind

I heard the sound of the wind beating softly into my ear

I say beating because I could not tell the difference between the whisper of the wind 

And the resonance of the blood that was pumping through my veins

My heartbeat, the wind  — 

One and the same. 

I laid there in awe, mesmerized by the way it moved gently through the trees, giving them embodiment and motion

Knowing that my heart does the same within this body of mine — 

Moving faster, working harder in times when I feel the need to run away from it all

Slower, more relaxed when I finally take the time to rest, to simply be 

It is this organ inside my of chest that plays the same song as the wind through the trees,

And I watch as they sway carelessly, with no where they need to be

Nowhere but here.

Prayer on a Kayak

I prayed today. 
Not because I had to.
Not because I even wanted to.

Rather, I needed to — I needed to feel close to the Divine, that interconnectedness of it all.

I don’t doubt that God heard me, whatever he or she is or isn’t (sometimes I just don’t know),

And yet I am also not 100% sure if I’m only praying to hear myself talk —

To hear myself say that I actually have hopes and dreams.

But in the very least, I do know that the Divinity of the breath echoing from my lungs, hears it’s own sound. 

Deep calls to deep, holiness recognizes holy.

I am good enough as I am, if I never accomplish anything more in this life. 

But I also want to declare that I more than that, and my truest self is waking up from her slumber. 

I have so many talents and gifts that have felt locked in a vault and I think they want to be set free.

I am not asking for the happiest life that exists, and I don’t want to be healed from feeling it all (the bad and the good) — but I do want to be a part of something.

To sing. 

To live in the power of music and harmony and breath and rhythm,

For the synchronicity to vibrate inside my bones,

Because music is power.

It is honest, it is brave, it is raw.

It connects us in our most vulnerable spaces, but it doesn’t abuse us when it finds our weakness. 

It fills, it strengthens, it brings us home.

To ourselves.

To me.

To God.

I know the answer to my yearnings is yes.
And that I am her, the girl who lives her dreams.
Even now, as it all forms. 

I am enough and I am more and I am enough.

Love Finds It’s Way

I wrote the words (in quotes) below back in 2018.

Little did I know at the time the amount of heartbreak that would come my way through opening up to life again. The humility that would envelope me. The excruciatingly painful grief I would face in all aspects of my life.

And yet I am grateful, that even though it included a lot of pain, love found it’s way into my heart in ways I never knew existed. I have now been seen and known and loved by without agenda. I have been ripped apart, finding new layers of my truest self underneath, and have found that Love still meets me there.

I have also loved others deeper than I thought I had capacity for. I have experienced the feeling of looking intently into the eyes of someone so different from me, choosing to put my judgments aside in order to see them and love them exactly as they are. And, with trembling hands that did not want to loosen their grip on things not meant for me, I have also let go.

So much has changed, and yet these words from my past self ring true today. I am in awe of it. I am scared of it. But I am sinking into the reality of life, and maybe I will take it all in slower and more gentle as I go on. We’ll see.

“I am truly in awe of life.

I am mesmerized by the intriguing people I’ve had the honor of interacting with.

The perspectives gained.

The space left for questions.

The vulnerability of the in-between and the unknown.

The learning to love who you are while not even knowing what that means yet.

The challenging yourself to push forward, while also making sure you check your motives.

The listening. The learning.

The pain of investing and sometimes losing, and yet allowing yourself to be changed by all parts of your experiences.

The beauty of Love always finding its way even when we don’t believe it will.

The desperate loneliness met by unexpected connection.

The fear met by love.

The willingness to face inner demons even when it means losing your ego.

The way things always come at right time, often not any earlier.

The way years of stillness can still lead to a heart finally opening up to the world, and to beauty, and to love.

The way it’s never too late to hope.” ✨

she is risen.

Why would you bring children into your prison? 
You selfish, selfish man.

Were you relieved to die?


I guess I don’t actually care how you felt when you took your last breath 
I just wish you would have left the key

To let me out of this mess


But I am here without a guide 
To lead the way to freedom

So I fight for it alone, with bruised knees and bleeding hands 


As I crawl toward clean air
Longing to inhale something more than the trauma built up in my lungs  

To go where I don’t have to run from my own shadow anymore — or is that yours?

Do not linger there, behind me, with your darkness
Do not touch the hem of my garment 

With all of your own wounds you did not care for

Jesus never healed me when I held out my hand to him
And I will not reach back for yours 

You are amongst the dirt and the ashes, now

But I am here, rising toward my own pleasure, my own fulfillment —
These are the only buried things that the goddess in me

Will one day resurrect from the grave


I will be the one who rises from it all,
The one who dances in the light of day, with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face

And I will not thank you for even an ounce of where I have come with my own strength

Not

One

Ounce.


But although I cannot credit the one who locked me up in this prison cell with his own demons
I know that everything you are, even your dirty, filthy scars, lives inside of my frail bones

I may be doing all of this on my own, but when my weary arms finally turn to wings 


Yours will, too.

Daddy, we are finally free.

“He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” -Mark 5:34

Dreams

Everyone tells me to leave you

But my soul tells me to hold you
To love you
To see you

Until you finally break o p e n and let me in.

I wonder how many lifetimes it would take?
How much self betrayal I would need to bear
To chase affection that is merely a g h o s t —

Until you finally choose to love me?

How many sloppy seconds I would need to eat from your table 
When all I want is to offer you all my firsts?

Hell, my first kiss 
My first long embrace 
My first I love you

I already gave those to you
And all you gave me was s p a c e

Over and over and over again until “space” filled every inch of us — and there was nothing left.


So I finally stopped running toward you 
And breathed all the love I had for you
Into myself

I left your mirage
To chase after my own d r e a m s —

Dreams you never show up in anymore.


But God, I miss the way you looked at me. 

Goodbye.

How is that one man, who at first is a stranger, can touch your heart so deeply,

So gently,

So perfectly,

In the purest way you’ve ever experienced?

How can one hug suddenly become the catalyst to the affection that makes feel the most held in all of your life?

How can one small touch of his hand become your comfort?

One voice, one tender heart, one set of eyes looking right through you, and instantly your world is completely at ease?

A stranger!

Can become your lover

The one you don’t ever want to let go of

And who doesn’t want to let go of you.

But then,

He does.

He

Lets

Go.


And just as quickly as he entered the depths of your soul — now he’s forever gone!?

I don’t quite know what to do with this type of grief, yet.
I’m used to mourning death, in all of its finality, the way a life often ends abruptly, without warning.

But when someone still exists on the earth, and it is decided that parting ways from each other is best, the pain feels eerie and surreal, almost unnatural.

And in some ways, it just feels wrong.

How is he continuing to wander this world without choosing me?

How long will it take for him to forget the sound of my voice?

When will it all fade into the back edges of his beautiful mind?

How? How could we love with this much love and choose to walk away from it? 

I know why, I do.

But what if the whys of leaving were not worth the cost of losing the depth of connection we shared?

Sometimes, when I think back on it all, it feels as if he had been trying to say goodbye to me since the moment we met.

Until something took hold, underneath the fear, underneath the trauma.

A connection of souls that even he struggled to part with.

And for me, I think I have been trying to avoid that goodbye since the moment we met.

Holding on so tight because I had finally found someone who truly saw me, who got me, who held space for all that I am. 

Who would want to say goodbye to that?

And yet, I’ve never said that word to someone so many times.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. 

Again and again and again. 

Over and over.

Chasing his memory less and less with each one.

Bearing it. Holding it. Feeling it.

Did we try to make it something it was never meant to be, and thus lost any chance of future friendship?

Or were we meant to fall into the messiest kind of love anyone can fall, the kind where you don’t really know what you’re doing, or what you want, or what you need, but you’re pulled in by gentle love, 

So that all of it could be brought to the surface to heal?

I don’t know that answer, I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know that I don’t want to ever forget him.

The way he looked at me.

The way he held me.

The way he loved me.

I want to remember what it feels like to look into his eyes and to know that he’s looking right back into mine with the same kind of soul-embodied love.

I really don’t want to let go —

But I have grasped at his anxious body for far too long, now. 

Reaching, reaching  for someone who needs to move, to dance, to wander off without me.

To find his own way.

And so do I.

But I don’t want him to forget me, either. 

I want him to feel my love in his bones, the love that sees his worth and sees value in all that he is.

I want all of the pain to be worth it.
I want him to remember that I touched his soul.

In the end, though, we must surrender it all.

Every ounce, every bit.

Every single tear that was shed, bathing amongst the vast oceans, among the memories, mixed in with all of the world’s sadness.

Every seemingly special moment now behind us, never to be lived again in the same way. 

I wish I had been more present to it.

To the feeling of his warmth.

To the sound of his breath.

It breathes in me, now.

I am forever changed.