I’m afraid of all the things that come with the rocking and swaying of change. I’m afraid of losing another soul. Of closing the door and knowing I won’t see someone again.
Of saying goodbye.
I never want to say goodbye. Because saying goodbye? It feels so final. So finite and scary and real. I don’t want to let go of the hands I hold and the lips I kiss. I don’t want to be without the feelings that other hearts fill me with.
Some collect coins or stamps or dolls. I prefer to collect people. I’d like to think I can fill my pockets with every heart I’ve ever loved. With every soul I’ve connected with. But waves of change wreck me. They tear me apart, they tear me to pieces. And I loose myself. The way the wind sweeps away leaves in the fall, sand in the summer.
Its inevitable that life will change and people I thought I’d never drink a coffee without will twist into their own versions of a life outside of me. It’s undoubtingly the way feet move across my dance floor just to find another partner beyond me. It’s predetermined that I’ll loose. That I’ll fall and smack my face along the pavement and wish I hadn’t let her in or given that boy my heart.
I love too hard – too deep, too entirely, to infinitely. My head can’t catch up to my heart to yell, “stop, don’t go that way. Don’t run on that path, through those woods, in that park. Don’t put yourself on the line, don’t get broken. Because you’ll get broken girl, you’ll get broken and I won’t be able to help you then. It’ll be too late, you’ll be too far gone. Just stop and wait. I’m coming, I’m coming.”