#dear joel

You’re mine you whispered, when the words on my lips became ‘you’ instead of ‘then’ And I was so left in a void, that this mess of stars and light merged into a hold of darkness, that one step took my path sweeping away from what I was so sure was going to be We, not he, I am a different person now, and the importance lies here it is not of the moments I loved, I left behind the development of self, enlightening upon new hindsight and fresh perspective, in a new life I could never envision, with turns I had not planned, being thrown into the dark was more than metaphorical The times I jump awake when he enters the room, my breath is knocked out of me and my heart pounds my chest not sure if I’m awake or asleep searching for a source of light in which to focus, let the shards of reality pierce me. The security is uncertainty, how fragile we last on something so unstable, lying against the odds? But there is a courage, a pride in which we become when we’re ready to risk what we’ve survived on for the nourishment of greener grass Thrive, not survive, in search of every possibility I left behind and every option lying ahead. I am a mess of things I so dearly want and so dearly want to be because “me” is not myself, the consciousness I lie in is a map of uncertainty in which I cannot sleep sitting for hours in plans and papers of changes that will alter my existence and the exhaustion that follows. I am not who I am, I am not which what I want to be. The different parts that don’t even feel mine and the moments in which I feel entitled to be this is the hardest part, placing myself in a history I’m not even sure exists And I’m trying to find a way to explain the way I love without using the word, the limitations grind against my mind and underlies a frustration of feeling something so much more There is a place I need to be, beside his shoulder and the strength that leaks from his hands when they lock with mine This is the pandemonium of my head, something new for when my brain bleeds for a consistency so hard to find in a world not built for us the only definition on which needed to stand is ‘Me’ Questions need let be left aside, trust in the potential of change Change, engage, not flight, not afraid It’s easy to say sorry when innocent of a crime to follow a fox into a forest, let the dapples of sunlight on your back become shrouded by a canvas of leaves until you lose the path to be chased away by the fear of being alone, the fear of being away from home but listen to this the engineering of the mind is a skill, not a task, perhaps because of it’s entropic nature the impulse to create order out of chaos is instinct and what we build is so solid, our flakes of being are intimidated by the absolutes in which we exist. When I am away, far from that I love and in the depth of an unknown, the arms around me are my anchor, even if they are beyond my anticipation The need for movement forward, but lust of consistency, the anticipation that this will be satisfied is a toll, and then, yet I am still safe I am in the extension of my own horizons sight is a limiting factor, and to see beyond that doesn’t depend on physical observation this is how I learnt that drifting doesn’t mean you will drown and the chaos we find our paths in is liberating, not limiting we are intelligent enough to make resource of the debris which passes our consciousness, I believe in this, in us, to believe in the trusting of others, the kisses left on my forehead and the observation of reality the shifting behind me when I sleep, the physicality of your care being my safety, that placing one foot in front of the other is still going forward, even if not in the direction of initial destination That no matter what is, what we are, certainty is dependent on our decision of exactly that and thus so, where you carry me, where we lead ourselves hand in hand, We will always be exactly where I need to be.

Four hours have past since your return eighteen days ago you left and the word hate has been said far more than I could count