I can wait. I can wait for days. I have been. I can still. I’ve got the kind of temperament that makes that easy. I can hang on, hang in, hang tough and I can make it look good. I’ll wait, I won’t wander. I’ll build, I’ll plan, I’ll make it happen on my own power and of my own making. And when it does, when the spark is ignited and the fire rises, I’ll know why. I’ll look behind me and see the trail that got me there. The work, the sweat, the blood, the tears and it will be worth it because I made it worth it…I made me worth it. And I won’t stop there. It isn’t in me to stop. I’ll be what I was meant to be even if I don’t know what that is yet. But when I get close, I’ll know and then, in a flash, it will expand again and move out of reach. I’ll smile, knowing better, knowing all the while that it was never supposed to be about getting somewhere that is was never mine to have, it was mine to chase. It wasn't about a destination… places are transitory. It wasn’t about a person… people can disappoint. It was about, well me, and at the same time it was completely not about me. Accepting and losing, gaining and giving are all of the same face value and doing it alone is something I can handle, I embrace, I welcome.
You spoke to me, through me, around me, and you were right. I didn’t listen because I believed that leaving it in your hands, letting you inside would make me dependent, something I would never be. And when you spoke it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. So you were shut out, I made sure of that. When you would come around, I’d wave and make you laugh with a joke and a smile and you let me and the moment would pass. I’d hold you at arms length, not quite meeting your gaze. You knew better. You always have. You’d see me look over my shoulder at you from time to time… just not ready.
So today, I decided that being alone and self-sustained and complete is beautiful but it isn’t everything. At times it’s meaningless, actually. I’m letting it in. All of it. Thank you for not giving up on me and not giving in when I pushed. For holding on, even at arms length to what you were given and making me feel like that was enough, even when I knew it wasn’t. I’m taking off the armor. Maybe you knew this was coming, maybe you even knew the moment it would happen. I’m sure you did. Thank you for letting me find it for myself. Thank you for letting me wander a while first. Thank you for letting it hurt. I needed the hurt.
I can take the pain, and at times I welcome how much it makes me feel alive… but tonight, as it all soaks in, I realize that what I fear the most is regret. So, here I am. I’m here. I’ve arrived. Finally. But you know that. You’ve been here all the while…you never left.
So here we are. Your move.