He’s here again, wondering where I’ve been, what I’m doing, where I’m headed to next.
Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.
I waved goodbye to his car a long time ago, yet it takes a moment of nostalgic sweetness to remind me that he’s still sitting in the carpark out front.
In my imagination – he fits. He’s a soft space to call home. A warm smile. A pure heart.
The reality, however, is a completely different fairytale and that’s how I know that I’ve been searching for a reflection of myself in another, too hesitant to claim my power as my own.
“What would happen if you just let go?” my sweet self murmurs while gazing at my heart rising and falling in my chest.
And just like that, the truth is a little more wild and a lot more free, because to let go of an incomplete story would mean that I would have to have something far scarier than self-inflicted hurt – I’d have to have space, I’d have to breathe.
My self doesn’t need to drop the next line. I know it instinctively, I feel it and finally, just finally, I’ll choose to hear it.
Space means room for another heart to enter and no excuses for me to nurture my own.
Love. Unpredictable love. A soul’s craving and for me, an underlying fear that emerges when the sun brings deep red into the sky and who twirls with gold in her hair as if to say “Wouldn’t you like to dance beneath me?”
And so I do. I unlock the front door and tiptoe out onto grass that is cold yet calming from the morning dew and I gasp at the beauty of it all, of nature, of my heart, of my home within. Fear is still there sitting quietly in the corner on one of the weathered deckchairs, but I swear I see a smile cross her face as she see’s me let go, inhale possibility and step into my divine femininity.
She’s there to protect, to keep me safe, that’s fears job after all. She means no harm, in fact we know one another well. I wipe the crumbs from her chin when she’s had too much to eat and she holds my hand as we add brick upon brick to my castle walls.
“It’ll keep everything out,” I remember turning to him and smiling.
And fear, still a beautiful wise part of my whole self, took a step back while muttering “Sure, but it’ll allow nothing in, too.”
I ignored her, told her to take the rest of the day off. But she shadowed in the background until I was ready for a break.
Kind soul that she is.
And that’s when I reluctantly realise that she is right. I’m a stubborn one, I will admit, but also strong enough to know when I need to dig deep and listen to what lies beneath.
“It’s scarier to be loved than to have lost.” I hear float into my body. But it’s not true – not completely anyway. I didn’t lose, I simply keep choosing to put myself first. Despite fear, despite how uncomfortable it can sometimes be, despite needing to feel my way through to the other side.
“That’s self-love, that is”, I laugh to myself.
It’s the most beautiful goddamn thing around. I’m falling in love, madly, deeply, and it’s the journey of a thousand miles, a thousand songs, and a thousand blessings.
And I wholeheartedly i
ntend to hear them all.
All my love,