I watched a stormfront roll in last night, this straight line of absolute black taking over the sky.
Storm comin’. Winds of change be blowing, huffing and puffing and tearing my house down.
This house I built needs to come down, the revolving door has got to go.
It was 2 degrees yesterday, 16 today and windy as fuck. I am recalling something from high school about thermals and fronts. Just vague, but I understand the reason for the wind. Both proverbial and actual.
My life begins again when the weather turns warm, always has. Winter finds me hiding, hibernating, gathering strength.
In spring my soul feels dirty, and wilted from disuse and being buried under snow.
Summer adventures leave me sweaty and breathless in the heat of August nights. I dance in the rain and chase storms. Baptisms in lakes and oceans keeping me clean.
Summer is taking it’s time this year. It snowed yesterday.
Mercury is poised to go direct on my Nana’s birthday, which also hails the first day of Gemini season. Although I have noticed my fellow twins have started celebrating early, greedy bunch we be. And proud too. And really fucking greedy.
I however am currently beating myself up for being greedy, and blind. I am not proud.
Went for a ride on my wrecking ball again, all the while lying to myself and others and subsequently apologizing.
I am so fucking sorry.
I wasn’t trying to lie. I tried to run and I can’t. I don’t want to run anymore. I know where I want to be.
And now I am waiting.
This standing still thing seems to be my way.
It’s not currently serving me so…time to move.
Bravery is, in my understanding, ‘movement anyways’.
I wasn’t ready.
Lamest excuse in the book, but the truth.
I wasn’t brave before, I wasn’t even that smart. He sent me the fucking instructions and I am just now reading them.
He just wanted me. Not photoshopped and cleaned up. Just me, raw, real and dirty as fuck.
I look at me now and me then and see very plainly all the things I had to do, be and become. The most important lesson being this one.
This might be one of the last pieces I needed.
I am getting epiphanies and signs and they all point to him.
I look back at old conversations had by different versions of myself at various levels of becoming and I can see very clearly that I really just wasn’t ready. I wasn’t enough.
I have read all the memes that tell me that I am enough…but I can openly admit no, no I was not.
I had potential.
My skin wasn’t thick enough, my understanding wasn’t deep enough.
And the worst of it was my resolve waivered, not because I didn’t want what I want, but because I didn’t think I was worthy.
He did.
Then I was a young witch, whose green eyes, as she stood naked by the river springs, drew down a god.
Pauline ~ Robert Browning
Um, now what? What do you do with a god? And especially what do you do with one who doesn’t currently feel godlike? What if he never did?
Just because I see a Titan doesn’t mean he does.
And just because I see a silly fumbling girl in the mirror doesn’t mean that is what he sees.
Like I said I drew down a god. There has to be something in me he saw and wanted. And I know exactly what it is…exactly what I am.
Emotionally loyal and physically wanton. Just his.
Each of us has our own projections of who someone else is.
It is coloured with our perceptions, not narcissism…just pieces of a puzzle left blank and our mind’s eye fills in the voids with our past experiences, our hopes and any other crayon we can get our hands on.
My whole life has been a long series of ‘fuck shit up, find truth in the wreckage and try again’.
I love someone who needs beyond all things to be chosen over and over again it’s time to set aside my insecurities and give him what he needs.
I have to try one more time.
