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

Sunday, Aug. 11, 2019 @ 11:40 am
Crack the Shutters

One year ago, we were in the midst of a flurry of summer visitors. My family, his family, friends, all converging on our small house nestled in the mountains. One night, when I was exhausted from being a host and searching for support, on one of the last nights in which we shared a bed (and only because all of the beds in the house were full), I reached over and kissed him. I remember the courage that it took to reach out to him. I remember the wonderment of feeling him respond to me. A glimpse of intimacy, a taste of what was missing. A tenderness.

That was the last time that we kissed. In the next entry, a week later, I question my relationship and write about desperately wanting to feel loved and wanted.

One year later, I wake up with Russell in my bed. His smooth brown skin against my white sheets. The sun bright, the birds calling outside, and a breeze that tosses small leaves in through the window that fall into the sheets around us. I pick up one of the small leaves and twirl it between my fingers. He wakes and watches as I place the leaf on the bedside table.

I run my fingers over his skin and press my mouth into his shoulder; I can’t douse my urge to devour him. He places his hand on the back of my head and kisses my forehead. I move the length of my body against his and feel waves of energy, warmth, love, pulse through my body.

Crack the shutters open wide
I wanna bathe you in the light of day
And just watch you as the rays
Tangle up around your face and body

I have this now. I have what I wanted so desperately a year ago.

I feel loved and wanted.

This is my refrain. Love. Worth. Belonging.

Does it take a drought to cultivate an appreciation for water?

“Somehow, you know exactly how to touch me,” I tell him.

“You’ve taught me how,” he replies.

Roots | Shoots