I'll Say What's True and Really it's 'I Don't Know'

 I'll miss the scent of coffee brewing at about 7:30 every evening. It's been a staple of my life for more than four years. Most nights, I've made it. One of the small acts that always have shown my love. I haven't made it in about a month, but there it is. He always said it tasted better when I made it. I believe that. Everything tastes better made by someone else's hand and more if it's from love. And it was. It really always was.

I've been asked recently why I said yes. Why I went through with it. And I have struggled for the answer. But that's what all the experts say is harbinger of the end. When you can't remember the best parts. I have said too often "I don't know." And today, sorting through this chaos and clothes, I remembered. He used to look at me like stars were born in me. Like I breathed all the universe. I don't know when he stopped. But it didn't take long. All I ever really wanted was love. I wanted to be loved. I have so much love to give. A heart just brimming with it. Overflowing and washing the feet of people who don't deserve my devotion. And I hope that I never stop loving with every ounce of my soul. I hope that all the passions in me never slow. Love just a symptom of the disease of the fire that burns in me.

But it's definitely hot to stand too close. I'll burn a motherfucker before they know what they've touched. The blisters will rise and the flesh will heal, but that memory will remain. And the memory of the pain lessens with time. Then the memory is only the warmth and spark and beauty. Neither is really perfectly true.

I doubted myself for a moment there. I doubted. The first time someone calls you a horse, you get mad. The second time someone calls you a horse, you punch him in the mouth. The third time someone calls you a horse, you go shopping for a saddle.

I truly had begun to believe that I was nothing special. Significant. Important. Worthy. What must happen to cause my flame to go dark? And what must happen to light me up again? I don't have all the answers yet. Just the pieces that I'll have to put together myself. No one else is here to help with that. And that's okay because I've put myself back together more times than I can count and I always come out more gold than shrapnel.

I am tired. I want to rest. I want to bask a moment before I have to be all the fire again. Share the flame and share the burden of keeping it alive. I cannot continue to do it all myself indefinitely. The body keeps score. And it has. I look at myself in the mirror and I've aged. I think I can undo that, but I'll have to actually let myself rest. And I have no capacity to be still or to give myself grace. But I'm learning. Learning sucks sometimes.

A dear human I met some years ago at the big show every year doesn't remember meeting me. I had a bit of a cold and had to drive home. I'd walked over to the bar for some caffeine and this fella with a big smile offered to by me a drink. I never let a man buy me a drink if I'm not interested in him flirting with me. I made an exception because something in my gut said he was safe. I said if a sugar free Red Bull is okay, I'll have that. And he said "whatever you want." He paid for my drink and disappeared.

Of course we eventually became friends. It was after a few years. He said that I reminded him of the wife he is hopelessly devoted to. And I never really thought much of it beyond our hair. Then he commented about our brains and our strength. So out of curiosity, I showed their photo to Gabe and someone who I thought knew less of my features (I was wrong about that, but more on it later) and both of them actually thought it was me. I'm flattered. She's a beauty and force and all of the things.

Later my friend told me that he probably bought my drink because I reminded him of his wife. They're a bit older and didn't meet until later in life. This morning, reflecting and introspecting, I wondered a bit if were deeper than that. I wondered if I made him think of what she must have been like a couple decades before they met. How often in love do we wonder about those things? What were they like before? And I love that I was able to give that to such a beautiful soul. One more drop in the grand scheme of why I am where I am.

And hope. Maybe that person for me is out there and I'm just not quite ripe enough to be what I will when we meet. Maybe I've already met them. That's not what matters. What matters is that there is so much hope. And that I am loveable and worthy. I am. I am. And I deserve the same devotion that I shine on anyone I love. And I won't settle for less than that anymore. Ever again.