Not enough.

The problem with inviting strangers from across the globe to read your thoughts is that sometimes, you want to write but you're cautious to share what's been tumbling around in your brain.  I just wrote a blog.  Just.  And I wasn't brave.  And it wasn't enough to quiet the buzzing in my head.

I'm going to try again.





That day we were apart and broken; my heart plummeted through my feet.  I needed to see you, but I didn't think you'd agree.  I felt like poison, like black death dragging you down.  I was addicted.  I was drunk and high on you and your fears of being with me hurt worse than anything.  

I sent a hopeful beacon to you, begging to see your face.  You said yes.  

It wasn't safe to come to your house.  You wouldn't let me.  We met on campus, standing too far apart and too close together.  I searched your face, not knowing where you were.  I was too scared to look into your brown eyes.  

You sighed.  We sat in the grass.  I picked at my shoe.  

I glanced up and caught you staring at me.  I was drawn close, closer than logic told me I should go.  Would you push me away? 

No, you met your lips to mine instead.  I groaned and pulled you into the grass with me.  We lay together for time interminable, kissing and crying and holding one another, trying to stop the inevitable shatter.  We looked up into the heavens, darkened by being on the wrong side of the earth. The stars shone on, unaware of the loss I felt deep in my chest.  

"I can't do this." you told me.  

You left me then.  I was alone.




After all these years, I know that you were fighting to know your heart, fighting for the courage to leap beside me.  We both struggled because the depth of our feeling was so intense, so fast.  I know that you loved me, even that day, or it wouldn't have been so damned hard.

It's easy to forget after eight years what it took to get here.

All of this, our life together, is because of love.  And courage.  And strength.  And faith that together is better than apart.

I love you for fighting for us, for loving me.





But - don't forget what it took.  Don't forget what it still takes.