Dear You,
Sometimes when I drive in the rain, I remember you. I remember the double rainbow that arched across the world for us. As though the world celebrated us as much as we did. Found the meeting point of two souls and smiled alongside us.
I have done it before.
Closed my eyes and considered. Weighed every pro, every con. Every consequence. You have been a daydream for so long I can see your eyes smile with a blink. I have seen you young. Loud. Like bright paint splatters across a canvas. Always willing to try something, be something, explore something.
I have seen you old. Mourning a way of life that was as easy as breathing. Things need to be worked out, fixed, practiced. Before you bounded, now you check where you land. Looking can sometimes be more daunting than just hoping it’ll work out. But now there’s a toll to cross the bridge. Unfortunately, you can’t sweet-talk this bridge troll.
I have always been attracted to that light. You encompass adventure, the yellow brick road stretching out before you. You are the call that YA writers dip into when they write. A gypsy, a traveler, a portal to another way of living.
But…
It’s lonely. Isn’t it.
Its comforting and rewarding and exciting. The road calls you the way the sea calls sailors. I understand that.
But you have to leave things behind. People behind.
Me.
So.
You are a daydream to me. I am what you leave behind. Until you return to my doorstop with your stories and trinkets and fun. You are a demigod coming to light up my soul and bring me respite from the world I’m holding on my shoulders.
But you can never take it away. I’m okay with that – I am content with it. You are my life’s good cop, bringing me joy in snapshots. Rest in moments.
I hear the call. I hear the road whisper secrets and directions into the bush. And I know I could step out and follow you.
But I am needed here. I have a garden to tend here. Saplings to water, an oak tree to sing to. I grow these with care and cunning, watching them take root. It is a wild place under my care, but beautiful work to undertake.
But my spirit… my spirit flies with you. My free spirit blows a kiss to a man who loves me. I can just never make the contact you desire. We dance on a cliff top, laughing and singing the song we dance to. And I love every step. I store each smile in my heart and take them out time to time. Resting in the knowledge that at one point, in one moment in time. Someone looked at me like my soul was worth the plunge into the depths.
That’s enough.
You are my time in a bottle. Kept safe and still. Taken out and enjoyed. But not really a life’s worth. More like a glint of a once upon a time.
That’s enough.
Our love is enough.
When your world begins to wind less, as the song becomes harder to follow. I will be here. Find rest with me in my garden. Let me sing you the songs of the land and sea and the sky. When your feet can no longer move, when your body is tired. When the road finally, after all these years, leads you back.
Find me. I have a place for you.
Until then. I will look out my window at the rain and remember. Remember a man who knows adventure as an old friend, the road as a home, and a spirit that flies as free as a pirate flag on a ship.
I will be here for you.
I love you.
I will be the lighthouse on a hill. Watch for my light when you wish to come home.
I will be here. No matter the storm.
Love, Me.
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