Rooted, I used to think.

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The Birthday Dance - Friday, Dec. 20, 2019
You and Me - Tuesday, Dec. 17, 2019
Resilience - Friday, Dec. 13, 2019
Anniversary - Thursday, Dec. 12, 2019
Still Happy - Tuesday, Dec. 10, 2019

Thursday, May. 23, 2019 @ 12:29 am
Giving Love

The hot afternoon sun beats down. Russell runs beside me, and the stagnant air is thick in my lungs. Every so often, a breeze shifts cool air from the ocean towards the seawall, but the heat from the rock bluffs quickly buffers away the freshness.

We run the same stiff pace. We talk easily and naturally, and I’m so very happy to be with him, my breath coming hard, my calves strung tight, the sun reflecting off of the calm ocean, and the low tide fragrant in the heat. We race with a towering white cruise ship. A seaplane buzzes overhead. A tugboat bobs under the bridge, waiting to guide the cruise ship. The conical piles of bright, canary yellow sulfur on the North Shore.

“That surprises me, because you are such a giving person.”

I hear him say this and am curious that he characterizes me as giving. My brain twitches, and suddenly it all floods back to me:

”You are the most selfish person that I’ve ever met.”

That was over five months ago. I am, at my core, the same person now as I was then. And yet, one man considers me selfish while the other considers me generous. What is the truth?

I stand at night in front of my open balcony door wearing a skim of a dress. I bathe in the cool air that passes over my skin, close my eyes, and listen to the wind rustling like running water through the trees. I look to the left and glimpse the sexy glass office towers of the business district. I look to the right and gaze at the soft and lush coastal forest silhouetted by moonlight.

Somewhere nearby, someone is playing a flute, jazzy and sultry and breathy. The music echos back and forth off of the concrete apartment buildings.

I am so very happy to be here. My heart brims over most days. I have so much love within me. I realized that I’m not so much searching for someone to love me but rather am searching for someone to love.

I want to love you, run my hands over your skin, watch your face as I trace my fingers across your lips. I want to tell you that you are wonderful and interesting and watch the blush of confidence bloom on your face. I want to hold your hand and take you out into the woods and jump with you into cool lakes, to bring adventure into your life, magic into your ordinary day-to-day. I want to pour you a glass of wine, offer you strawberries, ask about your day.

Existence is exquisite.

My heart overflows. Who will come to drink my love?

Roots | Shoots