Waving Not Drowning

There's no joy here. That's what she thinks when she looks into his pale blue crystalline eyes. A coolness settles around him. Tentative, guarded, quiet. Or mastered. Half a dozen of one... It didn't take her long to realize he was something other than what she was used to. L'autre, as they say. No wham bam thank you m'am How YOU doin' Jesus woman, you make me weak in the knees sorta bloke. Even his eyewear is sedate. There's a half smile occasionally withdrawing into a smirk. Unknowingly. A learned reflex, a laugh out loud withdrawn too soon. At this stage of the game, it's bred in the bone. Restraint. Observational engagement. Small ripples run deep. There's an undertow drawing her in but she can't tell if it's her own volition or an actual tidal pull. Full moon fever. He ebbs and flows. She wants to ride big waves. There's a quality of grace and wonder, a generosity of spirit that spills forth from  her every cel. ...

And this is how it goes. You give a little to get a little. When your expectations fall apart, stop having them. When the wants and needs override the plain and simple facts of the matter, change course. Lean into it or fall over and get back up. Again. Then one more time. And again because the bottom's not going anywhere but the sky is limitless. Practice grace and forgiveness then eat some good cookies. Be kind. To yourself. Then more so to the ones you love especially if they can't give you what you want. Or need. Sleep deeply. Dream lucidly. Create the most perfect reality that you can then let it go. Have a spontaneous dance break and throw your hands in the air. Like you just don't care. Words are worthy. You are worthy. We- we are here to be loved. So let's love.