When we are searching, the search is everything. Desperation, drama, adrenaline, trying to fill that empty brain place with hormones programmed to satisfy the want.
When we find, we explore, we exchange, we dance in ecstatic discovery. We wallow in the rush of lust and slide slickly.
And then...we learn something we didn't want to know. We find a handprint on the window. All we see is the smudge, while the view blurs behind.
Anger, hurt, confusion--betrayal. Why didn't I see that blemish before? How stupid I was! The anger turns outward to save the inside from feeling. Drop it and let it roll--I don't care! I don't care where it lands.
When it all changes, we shut down. We cry. We ignore. We move on in our hearts, whether our bodies stay or not.
The world moves in its course, magnetic north shifts--maybe reverses completely--and we find ourselves in a place unrecognizable. No, wait. I know this place. It is, essentially, where it all began. Because I am searching again.
The cycle repeats and repeats and repeats. The common denominator? It is me.
And one day I decide to stop and fight. I will NOT let that smudge distract me. That is MY life outside that window and I no longer want to bother with prints and bugs and scratches. I wipe. It smears. I shout. Shut me out? No more!
Pulling and pushing yield nothing. Locked. My fist through the glass? Pain. A chair thrown? Broken chair. That is not how I want to get out there. But I won't sit on the chair and wait. That smudge is in the way. I pace, I explore the perimeter, I plan. I growl in frustration. Head in hands, hair in fists. Wild eyes look to the ceiling for inspiration.
...slide...down...to the latch.
Slowly standing, I flick the lever upward with a quick finger and a click that echoes. A light touch, pressing away, and the glass slides aside in one smooth motion. It was that easy?
Wasted time!
No...not all. I learned that I can fight. That I can enter on my own terms and glow in the garden of a life I choose to participate in. Love was never lost--it turned chrysalis while I wriggled around inside. And when I emerged into the light, it was waiting for me.
I don't need to search. You waited. And I am here, not new, but renewed. How will you choose to enter and greet me?
Find me. I am yours. I always was. And I do need you. I had forgotten, closed in for so long. Have you?
Open with me. Let our colors comingle.
And I will learn to love you again.
When we find, we explore, we exchange, we dance in ecstatic discovery. We wallow in the rush of lust and slide slickly.
And then...we learn something we didn't want to know. We find a handprint on the window. All we see is the smudge, while the view blurs behind.
Anger, hurt, confusion--betrayal. Why didn't I see that blemish before? How stupid I was! The anger turns outward to save the inside from feeling. Drop it and let it roll--I don't care! I don't care where it lands.
When it all changes, we shut down. We cry. We ignore. We move on in our hearts, whether our bodies stay or not.
The world moves in its course, magnetic north shifts--maybe reverses completely--and we find ourselves in a place unrecognizable. No, wait. I know this place. It is, essentially, where it all began. Because I am searching again.
The cycle repeats and repeats and repeats. The common denominator? It is me.
And one day I decide to stop and fight. I will NOT let that smudge distract me. That is MY life outside that window and I no longer want to bother with prints and bugs and scratches. I wipe. It smears. I shout. Shut me out? No more!
Pulling and pushing yield nothing. Locked. My fist through the glass? Pain. A chair thrown? Broken chair. That is not how I want to get out there. But I won't sit on the chair and wait. That smudge is in the way. I pace, I explore the perimeter, I plan. I growl in frustration. Head in hands, hair in fists. Wild eyes look to the ceiling for inspiration.
...slide...down...to the latch.
Slowly standing, I flick the lever upward with a quick finger and a click that echoes. A light touch, pressing away, and the glass slides aside in one smooth motion. It was that easy?
Wasted time!
No...not all. I learned that I can fight. That I can enter on my own terms and glow in the garden of a life I choose to participate in. Love was never lost--it turned chrysalis while I wriggled around inside. And when I emerged into the light, it was waiting for me.
I don't need to search. You waited. And I am here, not new, but renewed. How will you choose to enter and greet me?
Find me. I am yours. I always was. And I do need you. I had forgotten, closed in for so long. Have you?
Open with me. Let our colors comingle.
And I will learn to love you again.
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