It seems that for some reason I draw love to me. Powerful, life long love. Love that I have not asked for, or tried in anyway to get. Love that is all encompassing. Love that sometimes I don't necessarily want, at least not in the way it is offered.
My forever unrequited lover, Colin. The one who is also made of fire. That is why it would never, could never have been.
One kiss is all it would have taken. I know I would have been yours, helplessly bound to you. But I know that you would have belonged to me, as surely as I would have belonged to you. So we danced around this, lest we chain ourselves to each other.
It would have been ill fated from the start. I think that you knew it just as well as I did. The fire would burn too hot. We would burn each other to ashes. But oh, how badly I once wanted to let you consume me.
There was John, my first true passion, the one who tried to steal my fire.
You were earth. I had believed you were the rich soil in which to plant my dreams, to nurture and care for me for all of my days. There was just enough soil on the surface to hide the fact that you were really cold, hard rock. Just enough soil to get me to try to dig.
By the time I hit the rocks my hands were already so dirty that I believed I had no choice but to try to chip those rocks away, to discover what was hidden beneath them. I chipped & chipped at the stone. I dug & dug. No longer a furrow to plant my dreams in, but a grave to bury my heart, my soul, and all of my tomorrows.
I dug deeper, and deeper, with my bare and bleeding hands, while you piled stones upon me.. Stones with names like possession (which you called love), ownership (which you called sex), degradation (which you called honesty, or nothing at all), abuse, most often emotional, sometimes physical (these too you called love, or honesty, or sometimes an accident, or a misunderstanding).
I still wonder how I managed to pull myself out of that hole alive. Granted, I had many hands ready to help from the other side, but somehow I still had to dug far enough out to reach for them.
Your love tried to consume me. It almost did too. But I learned the strength of the phoenix, and rose from the ashes, refined by the fire inside of me, ready to burn me alive. You taught me of strength, the price of my soul, and my own self worth. In the end the price of your love was too high to pay. It doesn't mean I loved you any less. Now I can look back with sadness, and even a little fondness. I'm starting to be able to remember the good times.
I learned strength, and pain, and neither were easy. But such important lessons. I learned what I don't want, and who I don't want to be. I think both are as important as knowing what you want, and who you want to be, if not more so.
Kyle, my darling, my ocean. So deep, and endless, and seemingly calm. I know water's violence can be just as fierce, and just as deadly, as fire's hunger, or the weight of stone.
You lifted be up, and floated me away from all that caused me so much pain. You washed over me, cleansing me, purifying my soul and my heart.
So very stable, and so very vast, I am scared that someday I will drown in this calm. Oh, I know you will never do this intentionally, but you'll do it all the same. As you send waves of stability and serenity towards me, they turn into emptiness, and stagnation. Little by little they douse my fire around the edges.
Someday there will be nothing left of me all. Just a little pile of ashes, too soggy to rise from ever again. But so long as I am here, will you ever notice that you have clipped my wings, and drowned the spark in my soul?
And then there is Irene, my wings, the one who is my gravity, who I think will get her own post.
I feel like I'm missing the point somewhere. I have so much love in my life, so very much. What is in store for me, that I would need to draw such love to me?
