|december in the garden|
I don’t want to live- I want to love first and live incidentally.
~ Zelda Fitzgerald
~ Zelda Fitzgerald
I wished to be unraveled and I am coming apart in new ways I never could have imagined.
Pulled strings and a life less ordinary where the sun shines high in the sky and the rain drenches me to the core. Feeling deeply and breathing in your shadow was nothing I craved more and when the days passed and I could not see your eyes or feel your presence, everything stopped. Suddenly I was in a room with no color yet utmost clarity. Everything crystallized and I walked around my thoughts, captured by the complexity and smitten by the simplicity. I pulled on my sweater and suddenly I was in the corner of your room, leaning against the tree in the park, curled up against you in bed, closing my eyes and wishing we had more time. All I feel is what is in my gut, in my heart. And it is that we should not be apart. When I came home nothing was the same. I walked into a house and everything was empty and my mind cycled as the holidays took me and shook me and made me look up at the moon. It was full and there were ice crystals around it and as the shortest day came and went, I remembered what moments captivated me most. We were sitting near a fire and were both talking and enjoying the conversations around us. You looked over at me and smiled and reached over to kiss me. I was walking towards the gate in the snow and inhaled and when I looked at you I had tears in my eyes and a big cheesy grin spread across my face and you came over and wrapped me up in your arms and told me how happy you were to see me happy. I was cozied up on your sofa with your pup and laughing at something silly on the television, and looked into the other room to see you on your laptop, looking at me and smiling that easy smile I love so much. And when I knew we were getting ready to start the next leg of our journey, the one five thousand miles apart, it was obvious that the words were caught in my throat, and so I had to write them down and figure out a way to show you what you meant to me. What you still mean to me. And as weeks pass and routines return, I can’t help but thank you for unraveling me.
You call me a star and suddenly, I feel illuminated.
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