I fear you. Your glorious, unfiltered power. Your topless, free-breasted march toward the unknown. You are unapologetic and inflexible in your understandings of the world because you know yourself and would never apologize for such. I remember when I first met you three years ago; before that, I had seen glimpses of you at parties, on mountaintops, in the cumulus clouds. But, I was always looking out as you were wondering by.
But three years ago, you stopped and I stopped. We knew it was our time, and we took it. Time is so much easier to grab with four hands instead of two. You helped me break, you helped me make the phone call, you helped me release the nine-year floodgate of “Fuck you!” And then, afterwards, after the mess I made and the mess I became, you told me to clean up and keep walking, to pack it up, steal the cat, and create a life I didn’t know I didn’t want until we had made it ourselves.
But I am stubborn and so are you, and I didn’t know what I didn’t want until I had lived it myself. Like a pair of shoes, my favorite well-traveled companion carrying me for miles. At some point, I had to buy a new pair of shoes. But you are not shoes, you are not worn and trampled upon. You last forever, if I allow you to, if I let you in. And I did, three years ago, when you stopped and I stopped, and we took our time.
But that was three years ago, and you never loved me more than you had three months ago. When I told my parents, bought the ticket, boxed it up, and sold the rest walking away from the life and future that cost me nine years of mental abuse and an accruing interest of $80,000. The me I didn’t know I didn’t want.
Beer buzzed in a small hotel in Pankow, windows open listening to the rain, petting my stolen cat and thinking of my reclaimed life. All crammed into two suitcases, a violin case, and a spiral bound journal. I hadn’t realized, not truly, how much I loved you, how grateful I am to have you. The feeling of love and synchronicity overwhelmed me. You had stopped, and I had stopped, and we had taken this.
my precious, beautiful,