A story eager to be told

“A blackness crept under my skin and threatened to turn everything to rot.

I stopped desperately searching for what couldn’t be sought.

I built up thick walls with bullet proof glass.

But somehow, someway, I decided to let you pass.

The stench of the rot turned into lavender and marigold.

A story that is now eager to be told.”

 

If you peruse through my old tumblr pages or penzu journal account, you’d find pages upon pages of rantings of my misery. Doth proclaiming how difficult speaking was and how writing was infinitely the better choice (which is arguably actually true). The riveting thing about writing is that I can erase and retype until I perfectly construct the meaning I have inside of my heart.

With you though, I don’t feel scared. I don’t feel scared that you’ll promise me things you’ll go back on. I don’t get scared of speaking and things coming out in a big mumbly mush, because even if it does, I know you will soothe me with patience, kindness, and love until I unscramble the mess.

 

I used to describe myself as a broken woman. A woman who was missing parts of me, and those parts were blank and rotting pieces of a larger puzzle that were locked away in a coffin that was buried away in a graveyard inside my chest. Dramatic much? Perhaps. But, it is genuinely how I felt.Slowly, I began to become more confident in myself and comfortable with my solitude. Then you came waltzing into my life like a dream.

I used to want to find someone who would tend to my graveyard and help me turn it into a garden. But I turned it into a garden all on my own. You, you just helped me remember sometimes to water the flowers and fertilize the soil. When I stir in the morning and turn to see your golden brown eyes sleepily find mine, I am reminded that I have a man in my corner ready to wipe the sweat off my face to get back in the fight when I’m ready. I have a man who’s on the sidelines with a bottle of water ready to squirt it into my mouth so I can keep pushing. I am reminded that there is a warm heart and a warm soul to allow me to collapse in his arms when I cross the finish line.

I’ve been with so many people who were tourists in my life. I said and did things that weren’t like me just to gain likability. With you, when we first hung around each other, it was the easiest thing in the world. Laughing and talking never felt so natural. And everyday with you is the most comfortable and comforting thing I have experienced.

It’s terrifying to place your heart in the hands of someone else and hope that they will care for it with all the care and gentleness  of a mother holding a newborn. When I hold your hands, I feel the hands that hold my heart, and I feel relief. The anguish, the heartache, the anxiety, it all melts away.

 

I love you without fear. I love you without expectations. I love you wanting nothing in return except that you allow me to keep you here in my heart. I love you when you hold my weak and weary bones, reminding me that I can get through another day with courage and tenacity.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

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