you didn’t think i’d make you do this damn thing alone, do you?
i wrote myself a damn love letter. and then i made a commitment to myself, held my own damn hand, and jumped over a fire. (okay, it was a candle. but i WAS naked, so it felt more dangerous.)
it is beltane, after all.
i see you. i see your heartbreak, your questioning, your doubt. i see your carelessness, your anxiety, your frustration. i see your anger, your passion, your rage.
and i see your heart. i see your pain. i see your beauty.
i see your generosity, i see your forgiveness, i see your openness. i see your willingness, your responsibilities, i see your dedication. i see your acknowledgment, your shadow work, your courage.
i see that you are tired. when you are tired, i am tired also.
your willingness to go deep is admirable. your commitment to second and third and fourth chances generous. your hard work impeccable.
but, darling, it is time to rest. lay down your weary head. let your hair down. let me soak up your guilt in the night, as it has no place here. let me soak up your shame; it’s never moved you forward. let me eat up your blame, your projections, your animosity – and by morning you will be renewed.
older, smarter, wiser. scarred but beautiful. imperfect but whole.
i will never leave you. call on me, always.
your friend, lover, and bff,