i observe men in silence, how they leave plates on dining room tables, how they slam doors, how they take up whole couch with legs sprawled and lounging arms, how they do not filter speech, too confident, too loud. voices always violent, everything a war.
The goal is to be unafraid when you love.
To turn your shoulder towards the winds and push on.
To be relentless in your pursuit of it.
To be fearless and unafraid.
We are so bold in anger and confrontation and so scared and meek in love. Quick to tell someone off or to give them a piece of your mind. Slow to place your heart in their hands and say, “Take care of this.” Fear is a trigger. I wish love was a trigger. I wish it was what made me tremble and took my breath and made me dizzy. I want to live in the cliché. I want to exist in the love song. Let me be mountain high and river deep. Not tabletop and puddle afraid.
This has to change.
Something has to be done differently. The goal is to be fearless in pursuit of all things you love. To be loud and unapologetic. No more apologies for who you love and how you choose to love them. Fuck that. Love them until you don’t. If they don’t love you back, then cool. Let them live in fear of you and all your neon-colored love. Find someone who will love you just as neon and flashing lights. Leave these beige and understated folks to each other. Let them have this neutral. This safe. This without risks. This comfortable. Let them have these ankles barely wet with it. Give me a drowning. Give me up to my neck in it. Give me a boat and an oar. Let me love an ocean’s worth. Fuck this playing it safe. This afraid to be hurt. We hurt. and we live through it. Fuck fear. Love anyway. Meditate on that.