things add up in the dark

it's like they know when you're ready

This is what I know about love; I’m about to be braver with it. I want to arrive with more of myself, more doings and fewer tired beliefs, to leave behind the sayings that are no longer true of me, of us. I want to be less anxious and stop projecting when love might leave me and how. I’d like to stop using precious headspace, and stop trying to mitigate damage before the first small lines are visible. This is the labour I brought into adulthood in an attempt to avoid pain. Of course, it doesn’t work. There is beauty in cracks and imperfections, corners that do not seal all the way around, days full of work, full of tears, full of nothing, spots that let the weather leak through.

.

Nothing stands forever. We all live on borrowed time.

..

People travel for miles to look at ruins.

…

Everyone loves a story where the hero battles the odds. What are we, if not the heroes of our stories? I want to show up larger, with the entire truth of myself. Instead of, “Well, this is me, whether you like it or not,”

or

“This is me. What part must I lose?” I want to lay down my defences or sense of defeat somewhere safe behind us.

“This is me; this is all of me.”