Afraid of comfort and security
normalcy and rejection
afraid to let go
afraid of failure
not living up to expectations.
Afraid to let go of old attachments
and just be.
The ocean is still pulsing her wave rhythms, the sky still changing her glorious colors, the trees still breathing in old breaths and exhaling pure life.
Cars keep driving past, in waves.
Suspend your disbelief for a moment and they are the ocean,
reminding you you may feel small,
but that’s sort of the beauty of it.
I love you. I hate you. I don’t feel much of anything.
Or I do, but less aggressively than before.
Confusing absence with mildness, apathy will moderation, extremes the backdrop to emotion for so long that standard deviation doesn’t seem to make a mark.
I don’t want to think about how I measure compared to other people:
size, money earned, adulthood’ness’, creativity, beauty, passion, love, looks, internal organs, vices, triumphs
I want to be happy for other people as whole-heartedly as I possibly can be.
I chose grace.
It’s like writing this has no energy yet so much energy.
I want to write love poems to life.
“We are love exploring itself” or something along those lines
I want to be love exploring itself.
No mirrors. Just eyes.
Face to face.
What I really want to say is
thank you for being the speck who makes being a speck feel less scary.
thank you for being my friend, for listening, for holding me, for full moons and jumping in the ocean and playing loud music and loving me exactly how I am.
thank you for showing me what love can be, and is, and feels like
I love you because you’re kind, and thoughtful, and brave,
I love you because every time we kiss it feels right,
I love you because we accept each other,
I love you because I always feel safe with you,
I love you because we trust each other,
I love you because we fit together.
Because it feels like home when I am with you.
I could fill pages and pages with reasons why I love you.
But most of all I love you for being just that
I write this and I can believe it and not feel quite close to it but know it in my heart because you don’t have to know things 100% all the time. Nobody knows anything forever 100% of the time.
Change is the only constant
but certainty in yourself can be your anchor, your guide.
I don’t have to be anyone besides myself.
I am doing the world no favors denying who I am.
No one will ever know who I really am if I don’t keep finding out.
So what’s the point worrying what they’ll think?
It’s so much worse not to know.
Maybe I am in the traffic, maybe there’s no such thing.
Maybe he can love me, all of me, and I can say
I can whisper secrets to the stars and ask the moon for her guidance.
I can dance in the rain and breathe in my dreams:
I can do nothing at all
And still matter.
It’s a long ways from perfect
And that’s absolutely fantastic
Because who are you not to accept yourself?
No one else even gets a chance if you don’t.
So what is this really serving you? What purpose does not accepting yourself really serve?
Hold space for the possibility of finding out the purpose, the reasons, what you are still attached to—not right away but with time—and don’t think about it too hard.
Or don’t even think about it at all.
I think trust might be your best bet for now.
It’s not a bad place to be.