I look back decades ago to a place in my life where I was struggling. To a point where I was regrouping and still licking my wounds. Between night and day, I struggle to find my footing again. Because before I was so sure I got it right, that I was in the place where I needed be. But the flames of love have a way of dying. What was once white hot now lay charred and lifeless. So we lashed out with words of hate and anger. To the point where we didn’t recognize each other anymore.
So often we ignore what is right in front of us. That peace, that calm we remembered. Yet we were so afraid to touch it. So afraid it would dissolve right in our hands. So we run away trying to recreating that feeling somewhere else. Only to find ourselves back where we were, lost and in pain. I cannot count how many times I thought of you. Perfect in your imperfection. Bold, stubborn, and wise.
Traveling in different directions, we seemed polar opposites. Yet dreaming the same dreams. Lust has long passed the point in which I live. But love and connection, now that’s where the truth lies. A place where we read each other’s thoughts, without speaking a word. Life needs more of that; I need more of that. Chores and routine are fine but real life has to come into play. Igniting each other’s passions. Celebrating each other’s individuality, and not snuffing out each other’s dreams. That’s what I miss, that’s what I desire. That’s where I need to be.