sorry tumblr.
I used to think things would just begin to happen. Imagining myself under big city skies, I felt the wind drag across my skin and set in the bags under my eyes. Everything was complicated because they needed to be so I could write novels of poetry about the sorrow in my bones. Everything that changed happened so rapidly, so freely, and nothing was difficult at all. We imagine these fights for love, a never-ending tale of cat and mouse on each other’s tongues, but things don’t happen that way. It was when I stopped writing that my life began. It was getting out of my house and listening that created me. I miss creativity and the metaphors that felt like they just bled out of my fingertips, but the agony can stay swept in shadowed corners.
My soul mate came to me through mutual friends. There were no expectations because I was so depressed and full of self-loathing that I never imagined someone would want to be involved with me romantically. It just happened and everything made sense.
Love used to be so painfully eloquent, chapters could be written in calligraphy about the vapor you’d become as I breathed you through my body and exhaled you to the wild. How ridiculous are our 20’s? Love completely changed my life. It changed my attitude, my health, my priorities - love literally changed everything. It’s not complicated like people say; it’s not jealous or obsessive or gut-wrenching. It’s not loud and dramatic and full of passionate fights, because it doesn’t need to be. There is nothing worth fighting over that isn’t easily seen as juvenile and there are no situations that cause one to be jealous, because the other is there. Living in love.
I watch my friends and family members now, and I wonder how many of them truly understand what they’re to find. Because even when I dreamed of what love could be, I wasn’t close to what came. I traded writing for love and it would be a lie to say it wasn’t missed. But something tells me I’ll get through.
