I’ve been thinking, you know.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ig5Um7e1Rqc&feature=related]
(this is a blogpost Sheena will love and has probably been waiting for. it’s one of those “lay it on the line, lay it bare and walk away smiling” ones. sometimes they’re about rage. this time, i reserved the rage which is unrelated to this blogpost, to our texticular communications. this one, this one is not about rage. it’s about something quite opposite. It’s an internal monologue that’s played itself over enough times and now has to be written down).
It’s entirely obvious to anyone reading this (and there are quite a few of you, I believe…) and anyone who knows me that…
I have love. Not stupid love. Not love without foresight. Real love. The kind that makes you feel at home in your own skin. The kind that doesn’t make excuses when you need it to be present. The kind of love that is here. Truly here. The kind of love you can tell everything to, even the bad parts, and it doesn’t go running off to investigate it’s navel just because it’s not comfortable with this conversation. The kind of love that shows the courage I deserve. The courage Cameron deserves. And which does not care who sees it.
That’s where I am. That love.
To lay it bare, however, is the most courageous thing of all. I laid it bare recently, in a conversation I had with some friends. I laid it
bare with the people who have been there all along, waiting with me, wishing for me, for this.
This. This person who treats Cameron and I as a unit, and doesn’t just wait until “the kid” is asleep/away/conveniently quiet.
This person which gets the notion that I need time to myself. You who understands that I need to write, and is completely okay with being included in what is written. You who gives without expectation, and still politely asks if you can come over and visit. You who reads bedtime stories and listens to mine. You who knows how to work a fairytale into every answer of the myriad of questions that emanate from a five-year old’s mind. Like…
“who lives in that tower?” “do sharks eat mermaids?”
Then there’s me. Me who really needs to get over her deep-seated insecurities. This inner fear of other things that do not matter anymore. Me who instinctively “worst-case-scenarios”, always. It’s learned behaviour. And I’m unlearning it. Slowly, but I am. It’s been a long road for me, carrying these suitcases. I’m leaving them on the side of the road, one by one.
I read this quote last night, before I fell asleep:
“the moment you stop looking for something, it will find you”.
My 360-kickflip of a life now, is proof of that.
To lay it bare is brave, I’m told.
Truth? I’m not the bravest person in this triangle of love. It’s you.