love is patient and kind; this is true. it does not envy nor boast; also true. but love is also acceptance. of your faults. of your dreams. of the person you want to be. if you ever have to hide the person you are or the things that bring you happiness for the sake of someone else; that is not love. the right person will never have you walking on eggshells around them. no, the right person will be right there, loving you in the midst of your mess because you love them in the midst of theirs.
you should never have to hide the person you are to be loveable to someone else.
you are worthy of love that does not need to be fettered by the chains of fear of guilt of shame.
i wonder if he knows. does he? about us? does he know of the connection we had, of the dreams we shared? no. he can’t, right? because you’re afraid. afraid of how he would hurt you if he knew. afraid he would leave you. a word of caution, sunflower. anything done from fear or guilt or shame is not love. never was, and never will be. unless you live and love in the light it will haunt you until it makes itself known. whether you want it to or not.
i will be your ghost. a specter of simpler times, a jinn of the joyful memories we shared. i know you will not come back to these grounds but, if you do, i hope you remember with tender fondness our talks of a home with a red door, of walking down the beaches of Mexico, of seeing the Northern Lights, of walks in the park, of dancing in the dark, of my hands wanting to run through your hair, of cooking at midnight, of holding you close, of driving to look at Christmas lights, of studying the Bible together, of listening to you sing church songs, of ten minute breaks, of love-me, love-me nots at the library, of leftovers and IM’s, of butterflies and hummingbirds, of talking for hours on end, of sunflower kitchen sets, of raising him, of teaching him video games and how to fish and love the trees, of blue apples, of healing together, and of you and me.
you told me once that you wondered what it would be like to be loved by me. i hope the days i spent with you were any indication of how wonderful it would be to do just that.
imagine a night that we spend out on the porch; lights hanging and sparkling in our eyes. dinner, by me, for you, and we enjoy a nice rosé while some Chris Stapleton song plays softly against a backdrop of stars, only outshined by you. I take you in my arms, holding you close, as we dance that slow, slow, dance and laugh that kind of laugh when we both know what we are thinking. I drown in the coffee of your eyes and maybe, you see the sky in mine. And we just dance and dance and dance.
I know you probably don’t come here anymore but I wanted to put some songs here for you in case you ever forget just how deeply, humbly, perfectly, honestly, and truly you are loved. Keep seeking light, little sunflower, for it is surely seeking you, too.