Do you think… if we would have had more words then, it would be different now?
At 27, I’m finally learning… it’s never been about right or wrong.
I look back at the pictures and at first I see so much joy, longing piecing into each other… then just below that, waves and knots of pain, unraveling down deep into Marianas Trench… and somehow we found a point of connection down there too. Hearing each other’s echos… maybe that’s where we comforted each other most. Both hoping that we descended further to the core of the earth where maybe true, unconditional love was as pure as heat is organic there… Maybe that’s where we thought we’d meet. If we could just swim through the darkness more. But when I heard and you heard me were always at different levels. Ships passing in the night down there. I guess how could we have met we were broken differently, healing different wounds, swimming in different patterns with not enough tools to bring us to a point of common ground, empathy.
Something I know for sure though is that if we didn’t find the healthiest of love, there was love there. Twisted and gnarled and sad but it was. And that connection will never be forgotten. It lives.
You weren’t wrong about so many, so many, intricate important things that lay all around us & in Plain sight. I long to reach out to you, discuss how insane *they all are, and then I remember where you were wrong. And I sit back, feeling how it felt, to be made to think – that it was me.
There was just so much more …
Maybe one day, I’ll find someone to fall apart with.
My goal is to spend as many days under the sun surrounded by music, people, food and books. Some wine too.
I feel like an oil painting that never dries. My colors are changing or they are bleeding from one to the next. Sometimes taking shape, sometimes looking like noise. The salt water keeps everything wet. Sometimes, I think… that says more than the words I can find to describe it.
I’ll meet you where the stars kiss the end of time.