That’s it…that’s the tweet Blog. Ok that’s not it, but damn…this Instagram post stopped me in my fucking tracks and I HAD to share it on my Story and now, here. Because I don’t want to forget it. I don’t ever want to forget the moments that led me to this post. And how divinely timed this shit was.
The fact that I had been playing “Real Love Baby” when I first saw this post also solidified what my guides were trying to tell & remind me:
That settling for lukewarm or bare minimum effort and love is not the business. That I am worthy of a love so sublime and so divine, that it reminds me of love; that I am love(d).
Every bone in my body will be sure. With love and humans coinciding-she doesn’t have to be perfect to be the antidote, the cure…
pure vibes and love. A love affair and love story to rival any epic tale. A love that’s real. And ready. & open and willing to move through the discomfort and the temporary. My love will choose me as I do her, endlessly. She will be solid in her love and intention, not on the fence about me. Not perfect, but perfect…for me.
I could write and write and write…but I’m gonna keep it brief and soak in the words above. A reminder of a perfect love for me. Imperfectly existing, never waning or drifting. Gifting me with her presence and consistency…hold her down as she lifts me. Transporting me to heights not reached previously. & honestly nobody else exists to me… Real Love, Baby
I really and truly love when I witness a work and body of art that moves me completely. I’m on the last episode of this limited series called “Scenes From A Marriage” and I’m…Disheveled to my core. & reborn.
Because I see bits and pieces in my own villain/lover original sin-love story; the similarities and reminders of one of my deepest loves. & conversations that were happening that I couldn’t fathom their meaning because I was too stuck on the in between of a deferred dream and my ideals…based on what I thought was supposed to happen.
My idealistic take on love and what being in a relationship was. Fuck me…these scenes remind me of that lucid dream. & the reality of my ex’s humanity in seeing that our dreams were parallel until they weren’t. Her raw honesty. & how sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees, based on your own hurt, or your own worth-or, perhaps lack there of.
Either way, this show really reached into the depths of me. Reminded me of reality. & how beautiful it is to be loved and be human. All of the messy and complicated parts included. So. In conclusion, I wrote some words about it:
Is there some ONE for every ONE? Or are we simply to experience Different lovers, different ideas & learn what the meaning is Contained within each vessel is a lesson A blessing & sometimes a curse We hurt, we scream, we cry, we mourn until...we remember our worth & what works & truly what doesn’t On slippery slopes we slide Until we collide Until we collapse Then perhaps Learn the meaning Of what isn’t Until one day we decide to put away The label makers & realize the humanness of loving each other boldly & making mistakes along the way Whose to say That I can’t belong to me only & give to you still A cup that’s filled Drinking from crystal glasses 20/20 with rose tinted spectacles We give everyone permanency & make them a collectible We hoard them, put them on a shelf right next to their pedestal To be polished so we can never see them with their subtle scars & prominent scratches We speak about the happiness Of having them But never fully experience them beyond the shell of our perceptions and expectations Erase the individual wants and needs For “we” have done ourselves a disservice Make it our purpose to worship Holy, but not common ground Just to feel safe & sound I want you around But only after you’ve found Yourself. Love your missteps Love is politically incorrect An emotional treasure within a shipwreck emotional rebirth & death On our tippy toes the closer we reach for depth And learn to swim in the abyss That darkness That elicits a sharp breath Uncontrollable we try to make it a point to hold onto that which we don’t know Write a script for love instead of Letting it all naturally come together and unfold Without permission we assign roles The rules were skewed a long time ago... That’s why you must decide your own Find your home Welcome. Rest your bones There a place for your comb and your calm.
In the form
Of imperfect petals of the rose
Gold every wo(man) is after
I sat there
At butterflies dancing so sincerely
I suppose we are never to old to let go
Hold onto every single memory of Love.