Fine is the line between fighting for and forcing.  The latter knows not love.

How does one let her go, but not hope for a future, for an epiphany?

How can two people love so intensely, but still come to the fork in the road?

How can a chain still mask itself in “not being tied down”?

The days are easier because I can lie to myself.  I can for a moment believe my own façade.

The nights are the worst, because I cannot control the meditations of my heart, the dreams of my mind, nor the hollowness between my arms.

What do I do with the memories, the pieces of you scattered in the most subtle places?

No box can contain them, no fire can consume them, so I hide them from my eyes, because my heart’s pain is enough.

I regret not a moment, nor a vulnerability surrendered.  I would risk it all again.

It pains me more to know that my love for you has to be through listening, through letting go, and not by action.  Simply stated, I love loving you.

How do I protect my heart now and still be a friend?

Is it possible to transition from our transparency, to not being able to say the truth when you ask?

I am such a fool for you and do not want dreams to die.

But what is a healthy boundary?

It is hard to know where to draw the line til it’s been crossed.  Til the heart pangs.

But the other option is to build a wall, and isolation has no redeeming beauty.

Honesty is a double edged blade.  It cuts straight to the heart, but makes it also bleed with fury.

I see now the draw to the superficial, the quick exciting rides.  At least then you know you will be left empty handed.  So you look to the next quick fix.  The jailer disguised as freedom.

Investment and depth leave behind dreams that cannot be fed so they whither, and memories that cannot be filed as joyous, because my lips are left parched.

I pursued permanence, but struggle with releasing from my grasp, simply a season.

Fate is a word for the weak, a crutch for the romantic, and a false hope that blinds from looking reality in the eye.  A simple word to hide behind so that the choice is not seen for what it is.

So, I wrestle, I wallow, I gasp, I wonder…I stare, I step, I listen to those with clear eyes….I search, I rest, I serve….I play, I entertain, I pray….

But when it is quiet and I have a piece of my heart that wants to be known….Still, I look for you…

January 9, 2014

 

 

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