Past the Guard Rails

It’s Saturday morning and I woke up thinking about the times you used to call me sometimes in the morning and want to start my day with a release and how I could never get off that way on the phone with you even though you were really good at talking to me like that.  I always loved hearing you tell me all the things you were going to do to me and all the ways I was going to open up to you.

But I didn’t need the release you promised.

You were always the release.

And so I wanted you to know this because I want you to understand that I don’t regret driving to see you last Saturday.  I know I’m supposed to and I tried to carry that regret with me all week because I thought it was a thing I was supposed to wear.

It wasn’t.

I carry a lot of things with me to all the places I go and some of them weigh me down in ways you could not ever imagine.

But not love.

Love has never weighed me down.

I know it’s supposed to.  I’m supposed to stop giving my heart to people and strangers so freely and openly and close up these avenues.  Or at least turn off the neon vacancy sign that flashes all morning and all night.

But I’m never going to.

It’s not who I am.

Who I am is past the guardrails now.

 

I can’t not be her.

I don’t even know how to try.

And so.  I’m foolish and ridiculous and impulsive and passionate.

But I’m not angry or bitter or broken or desperate.

And I’m not ever going to guard my heart or play by a set of rules that the world says are appropriate or acceptable.

Maybe that means I will end up alone and destroyed but I will also be beautiful and defined and whole and I would not choose to live this life any other way.

So.

I’m taking this cloak of shame from around my shoulders and I’m not ever putting it back on.

I’m standing naked and unabashed with my heart beating and bleeding on the outside of my chest.

And I’m giving myself freely and without debt to anyone who chooses to have me for however long they need me.

And this is where I’ll live.

Forever until I’m dust.

What else is there really?

Noah.  Thank you.  You were radiant.  You were divine.  

You are brilliant, bold, beautiful.

I love you.

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