herlucidlife

I daydream about you at work. Finally having a FaceTime call I couldn’t help but feel that same feeling of never wanting to let you go. The same feeling I felt in college, twenty-four hours in a day, it never felt like enough time. I long for something real. I hope it’s you. If not, I know that I’m ready for the real thing. I’m ready to love and be loved again. Fantasy land doesn’t feel as comforting as it used to. Nothing solid, I can’t rest my emotions on a foundation that is made out of air. 

I look for your name on my phone. Growth is that I don’t give my emotions to you. Maturity is that I’ve prayed and spoken kindly to myself about my emotions. I’ve allowed healthy outlets to be my safe haven. Not to say that you are not safe yet you may not have the bandwidth and my mind does not operate quite right all the time. Obsessive future tripping, can you fall in love all over again? Just from one phone call, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to talk to you all night, nothing like that is truly possible. 

I began entertaining the idea that perhaps it’s not you. I think the thought of it not working out actually hurts. We dealt the wrong cards in the game yet somehow we found a way right back. Feelings. The feels I get with you are magnetically contagious. They swirl in my head and heart, creating calm energy, then bursting with a buzz when you’re no longer close. My head begins to hurt thinking of you, the passion is too much to really process.

I may be talking in circles and it’s not even physical. It’s the mental and spiritual connection. The depth that is hard to find, not a shallow depth. Yet a depth that states I’ve learned myself, had to do the work and now I have depth because I’ve swam to the bottom of my own darkness to find the light. I once heard that growth can sometimes bring people back into the same orbit. Truth is I have no clue what is happening. I can’t put a name on it, not sure I want to yet. It’s really too early. 

Too early to finalize the logistics, too many moving parts to really say it could work. All I have is a mind full of stories, a soul full of love, and a heart full of uncertain anxiety. My thinking feels erratic. So I’ve decided to keep it to myself. To tuck into the folder labeled “God and I.” She’ll be safe there.