There is a feeling that cannot be named, only described. May you never experience it.
It is equal parts melancholy and grief with a hint of desperation thrown in for good measure.
I call it almost love, and it is as painful as it sounds.
It lurks in the shadows, waiting until you are on the verge of complete happiness, utter incandescent euphoria for the first time in your life.
You know you could so easily fall in love with him. His soul seems to speak your language.
But then something happens to stand in the way, like it always does.
Almost love is dashed potential. It is a weariness you feel to your very bones.
It would be easier to accept that happiness will remain always outside your reach if the cruel moments of hope didn’t slash your heart open like a knife, leaving you exposed to pillage and plague.
What causes this feeling?
Sometimes it’s his words after you’ve expressed caution, hesitating before lowering the defenses around your heart.
“I didn’t like you that much anyway.”
“I was just kidding around the other night; you know that, right?”
Sometimes it’s the disruptive turbulence of life.
He’s moving to Alaska.
He’s a vagabond just passing through.
You don’t know him well enough to follow, but you wish you did.
You do what you always do. Pick up the pieces and fortify the wall around your heart.
I think the only thing that can heal the scars left behind by almost love is love.
And there I go again, putting my hope in love.
I guess my heart isn’t as protected as I thought.
I think I’ll appreciate that someday.
a warrior in love
I need room to grow
Woods and cliffs to explore
Rivers to drown out my thoughts
I’ll spend time getting to know each rock, cave, tree
Visiting with them like old friends
You’ll pick twigs from my hair
At the end of each day
Pull slivers from my bare feet
Before sending me back out again
Bring me wildflowers
Share my heart with the wild
For it was my first love
But you are my last
Be my oak tree
Slow and steady
I’ll be your songbird
Know I’ll always return
Here are 100 things I like, in no particular order:
- White roses
- People watching
- New journals
- Old books
- Ankle boots
- Garage sales
- Homemade wrapping paper
- Homemade cookies
- Basically anything homemade
- Running water
- Polaroid cameras
- Alternative Indie rock folk music
- Chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a sugar cone
- Long islands
- Old houses
- Grill outs
- Birthday parties
- Organized closets
- Framed pictures and posters
- Canvas paintings
- Thrift shopping
- Record players
- Road trips
- Exploring cities
- Movie nights
- Big rocks
- Willow trees
- Bad jokes
- Live music
- Watching football
- Hanging plants
- Sad movies/books
- History lessons