I thought it was everything I could ever want in a Love.
Awfully cautious, ferociously independent and protective of heart, I went in toes first.
A week later, I was up to my knees.
Two months in, I lost the ground beneath me.
Four months, the current claimed me.
It was monstrous. Too powerful to rival, too addictive to forsake.
I felt beautiful, celebrated, seen. This unfamiliar became everything I knew and wanted to know.
I floated in the most intoxicating bliss.
But, in time, ever so slowly, my greatest dormant truth grew heavy and broke its silence –
I didn’t want this. I needed it.
I felt broken. I questioned if I possessed the courage to leave. Could I ever be alone again? I was awash with terrifying insecurities and befriended by the most relentless denial.
But, I knew. I just knew. It would have been so wrong to stay, when it wasn’t right.
Fuck, it was painful. Right in the middle of the chest is where it hurt the most.
After two months of battling the current, with my spirit in tatters, I finally emerged – on my own!
I know what I want –
I want to seek my own world, to create it, be part of it, live amongst it, feel it, love it. To want everything and need nothing.
I want my world to be monstrous.
So, I’ve jumped, whole bodied, into the current that is mine.