It was good that we waited to talk until the worst of my wounds began healing. I think back to all the ridiculous self-righteous discussions I backed past lovers into, thinking somehow an explanation or a witness for my hurt would be soothing. When in truth, what I wanted, what I really needed, was the simple reassurance of human attention.
But back then, it’s not like I knew this. And recently, as I’ve gone through this, again, but differently, I’ve found awareness and words to articulate my own truth. I found them alone because I finally, finally stopped worrying about everyone else and their approval and the appropriateness of all our behavior.
I’m learning how to give myself my own undivided attention. It frees me. Freedom means I can also seek what I need. And I’m getting better and better at reaching smoothly and in the right directions.
I will own my words, every one of them. I will pamper my own feelings and listen to my thoughts in moderation. I will keep on choicefully consciously breathing, and thus nurture my will and the trustworthy soul contained within it.
I will never ever give up on the idea of sharing it all in magical, transcendent collaborations.