You don’t understand…
That there are moments where I hope this person’s reactions to me aren’t surface feelings. As much as I want to feel the breeze of numbness to cope with my sensitive nature and to protect my heart from another fracture, I crave the warmth of something deeper, meaningful. I crave chaos wrapped in shrouds of mystery and soulful connections.
…But fear takes over.
…I want to run.
…I want to fight whatever this is.
…I want this person to say, “Nah, I don’t want this. You’re too much of a flight risk. Too wild like an untamed Mustang, always ready to run. I can’t risk it.”
There are moments when I silently break in front of everyone and no knows sees it. (no one sees my face distort in pain). No one hears it. (no one hears the willow tree that falls to the earth).
There are moments where I internally scream as I fight a battle within myself to not be who I was back then. Back when I pretended not to care when attachment settled in like salt settling in a glass full of water.
…But instinct takes over
…I want to confess
…I don’t want to fight whatever this is.
…I want this person to say, “I’m keeping you. Simple as that. Your running doesn’t scare me. It just tells me that you feel this, too. I got you. Because this feels right. I will risk it.”
There are moments like this that my heart is heavier than normal. My eyes water with possibilities and my conscience mimes its way through the unknown as I continue this journey of self-discovery.