… And yet I love to hear you sing because when your voice rings through the air, your honest soul reverberates and the strength of your heart resonates and I can’t help but look into those green eyes and feel the clarity of a light beam through the foliage in a tropical rainforest.
I guess I’ll write to see if I can evoke the thoughts within my heavy head and chest. I guess I’ll see if the world isn’t too dark to face in this tired state of mind. My love is heavy and my eyes are hot and damn it’s hard when the past is dredged up. It’s one of those moments where everything triggers and I just want to move to Portugal. But fuck I learned to love and now I’m scared of what is coming around. I don’t really pray but if I did I’d ask for another day, another dollar but only if I keep the same lover and if he’d know what it’s like to be sad that it wouldn’t be penetrating deep like it does to my core. Will tomorrow be a Brand New day that I can face as I open my windows to let in the sky and a mosquito or too? I guess I’d pray for forgiveness for all of the times that I wasn’t enough and that I decided to give up instead of move onwards into the day that tomorrow could be. It’s a pandemic, really, the way things end up with slight infection catching on and infesting the tendrils leading to the veins coming out of your heart (is that right?). It hurts me to hurt you but fuck am I sad sitting on my bathroom floor under the burning water. Maybe I’ll feel something.
I have loved you without thought of what would come and where we would arrive after all of these years. I remember missing you when you were away and again when it was my turn to leave. I waited for you without knowing that one day you would return and we would seek one another out on the darkest of nights and the longest of days. Now we spend hours cuddled up on ruffled bedsheets and we spend moments on adventures ranging from breathing moments to capturing memories in pixels and thoughts. I am grateful to be able to hold you and to look at your light eyes scanning my soul. I have never wanted such strong hands running their fingers through my hair the way I crave yours. I will write you a thousand love letters with my intentions and you will take me in for who I am and I will lie next to you and thank the heavens for your company.
There were never doubts or darkness in those eyes, there was only excitement and expectation. You never settled for less than you deserve and you never gave less than you knew you could. It thrilled me, won me to you, gave me hope and dreams of life. Now I too expect, deserve, and give what I know I can. You have been sculpted by many artists some controversial, some absolutely lovely and you are the finished product of love and battles that I have never understood—it’s intriguing. My favorite moments are those where you linger on the features of my face and you know all that you want in that moment. I am full of calm, a peace that you gently placed in my life and I am grateful.
Sometimes I’m tired of writing about the feeling of love, but then I remember lips on my forehead, your fingers through mine as we walk underneath the sunshine. I remember your eyes so light and uplifting gently gazing at me with adoration and I wonder if damn… might this ever be…
Then I hear your voice reminding me that I am special and it affirms what I already know of you, that I like you for more than who you are, but also for what you represent, what you stand for. I love that you are heavy with convictions, yet sometimes budge when I challenge you and it makes me smile to know that together there is never a boring moment. I could sit there with you with my head on your shoulder and my fingers running through your chest and arms as I listen to your soft voice in the night.
Here I thought that I was done writing stories about love.
She’s an angel for raising a beautiful soul such as yourself. The love she houses in her body for you radiates to those who bring you peace, joy, and love. The more that I learn the more that I love and I am so grateful that your kindness grows. In turn there is little else I desire and you spark a light within me as I fall deeper. You’re not a necessity, but damn does it feel good to know you’re there.
On behalf of the universe: I am sorry if the love you are receiving is a shallow kind of love.
They look at your choices and shake their heads in disdain almost as if asking, “is this the little that you want out of life?” You shrink into yourself a bit more each day as your supports dwindle, but you’ll recognize tomorrow that you didn’t need that shallow “love.”
Too many believe they are superior, but little do they know that you will learn of the workings of the minds, the shaping of our society. Remember that lofty titles are simply just that, lofty… They often lack the essence of meaning, they are a result of reactivity instead of proactivity.
This brings me to the concept of teaching:
If you ever want to know what truly ails someone, become their teacher. They will show you why their soul aches or why they live. Your students will demonstrate to you what it means to understand and to discover new schools of thought. So while the rest rest easy on their cloud of inflated ego, remember that you will hold the essence of existence in your hands. While they rest with minimal understanding of what it means to love and care for others for all that they are, your soul will purify in the light of others as you walk with them on their journey of understanding and learning.
Become a teacher and you will learn of the depths of love and the energies of the universe. You will gain a working idea of what is necessary to spur positive change in your life and the lives of others. Don’t ever forget: without a teacher, the rest would never have attained.