***This is a repost of one of my favorite things I’ve ever written about him. I was reminiscing some last night when I couldn’t sleep. Reading old pieces I had written and remembering the thoughts and feelings that were dominant in me at those times. It was nice. It doesn’t change anything but it was nice.***
It is bravery, don’t you think?
The vulnerability, the persistence, the ever present love…
small rebellions in the face of your relentless rejection and cold indifference.
Sometimes I think maybe I don’t want to be brave anymore. Not if my bravery goes hand in hand with the breaking of my own heart every day. Not if it’s my absence you appreciate more than my courage.
Besides, there has to be a reward for bravery, right? An accomplishment, a feeling of satisfaction, something…..
otherwise it’s not bravery, it is foolishness.
You were an unprecedented and unpredictable experience for me, something wild and magical and exhilarating, and because of that, I’m still learning as I go.
I make mistakes. I say the wrong thing. I forget to let you breathe. When it comes to you, most of the time I am a hot mess….unsure, out of my comfort zone, tripping over everything I say and always getting in my own way.
But I am passionate, bold, sincere and full of love for you. I just let my overzealous, excited heart pull me along before I think it all through. Still, I try and I give and I believe. And that’s what makes me feel alive and happy and hopeful, despite the pain of not having your love in return.
So when all is said and done, I’d rather be a chaotic mess of foolish, passionate bravery than a perfectly put together coward.