moon therapy

a brave brave man

Some days I get the world. 

Some days I get stories about your family or hear about the fact that you're allergic to oranges or that you love making French fries at home or that as a child you ate mangoes off the tree or that you're scared of nothing and have once jumped off a mountain in Nepal attached to just a red and yellow braided cord and how you have tried surfing and succeeded and how you feed stray dogs even though people advise against it and how you detest arrogant people and how you like kids 98% of the time except when they're crying at 3 am and wake you up. 

Some days I get nothing. Some days I get "yeah gotchas" and "cool" and "hey, I've got to get some sleep now, I better go." 

 I get responses that make me feel like it's me you're allergic to or that you're scared of me or you just don't want to talk or you're too afraid that I am too different and you don't want to invite yourself closer. 

How can a man who has jumped off cliffs and gone skydiving and glided over lush valleys by himself and hiked up a snowy mountain and successfully done so many things be scared of a girl sitting in her room with knobby knees and braids that stick out unevenly and sunburnt shoulders and butterfly hands?

 You say most of the time you feel invincible. You are scared of nothing. You are brave, a lot of things I am not, but somehow, you are afraid to let me know how you feel. 

Maybe just go jump off a mountain instead, then. 

You're really good at that.