Words. Spoken on a momentary feeling.
Feelings. Grown from a group of experiences and energy.
Words: carefully crafted spells, conjured by the heart and created by the lips.
There is a process. Words are a promise.
To leave my mouth, they have been in the making for quite some time. They are meaningful; full of meaning
Full: containing or holding as much {meaning} as possible; having no empty space
You tie strings to the periods of your sentences. Like black balloons. So that there is something to grab a hold of, to pull them back at a later time, when you decide you don't mean them anymore.
There are no strings on my sentences. I let them fly away, happily. I stand by them.
Once words have made their way into existence they can never again not exist. They are in stone. They are real. They leave my lips with a consequence that I am prepared for.
I am vulnerable, as God made me. God loves me and wants me to love others. Vulnerability is a prerequisite of love. That's what I wanted to give. But I wanted the love that I give you to be different. I wanted your love to involve my body and soul. Parts of me only for you.
Our bodies danced to tunes we were making in the moment; My body wrote rhythmic poetry to yours. And within the dancing we found more love. Like a love scavenger hunt that we didn't even know we were playing. Collecting more love each visit.
An ending is never the end. Though communication ceases, there's still more to feel. The embers still burn, even after the fire has been blown out.
My essence is entwined with yours, at this very moment. Your essence is entwined with mine; and the essence of other(s). So I let go of the rope.
Now is the time that you pull the words back, using the strings that were attached to the periods of each sentence you spoke. Black balloons. A costume change and a change of scenery.
I've placed my costume into the fire. I don't want to play that role anymore. Or any role ever again. I want to be me and attract what may come. My skin is real, a costume can be taken off. I don't want the false security of a stage and make up. Love doesn't exist there. I'm sure, I've looked.
I will blame myself for a bit. I will feel lonely. I will feel hopeless, and like I'm not good enough. I will cry. I will mourn the loss of what could have been.. I'll try my hardest to not look at your things.
(But your things are not just things. Your things are everywhere. They are in my music. They're in my food. They're in my every day life. Your things are in my dance moves. You are entwined with me.)
I'm not going to hate you. I don't want to. I will love you no matter what you've done. That's
what God made me to do. I was made in his image. God made me to love. Without exception.
I loved you the best way I knew how. At the beginning I loved you differently than I loved you at the end. And I loved you differently at the end than how I do now. And I will love you differently again after the river runs dry. Who knows how I will love you then?
I don't.
But I will love you.
It's what I was made to do.
And I don't want to fight nature anymore. I don't want to fight my self anymore.
He only wants what's good for me.
