Love has always been my super power. I give everything I’ve got. I will crawl through fire, chew through stone, and break everything in me for the people I care about. I don’t assume importance and I don’t assume permanence. I will stand by that person’s side until they decide to retreat or survive in the face of uncertainty and animosity.
I don’t ask for anything in return. I never have. I don’t hold grudges. I don’t place blame. I don’t hold on to anger and I don’t throw jugular shots in fights. I will hold my own hurt in the bleeding edges of my heart if it means the other person will live and be happy. It has always been that way.
I apologize constantly for existing in anyone’s space, regardless of their reassurance that I’m more than welcome. I am keenly aware of overstaying that welcome. I avoid it. I scream over it. I cower in fear of it and, in return, become less present and more in the background.
I never really know if anyone notices or not. I don’t feel love from others like they might expect me to. I don’t let myself hear it. The fear of it sounding too much like something that’s not sustainable will stop it from ever entering the holes in my soul every single time.
You can scream Love until your lungs burn. It means little to a heart so broken in itself that it refuses to give itself it’s own light.
Until now. Until right now.
I refuse to stand up with my own tyranny. I refuse to huddle with my back to the wall, hoping someone will crawl over it enough to see inside. I refuse to hide my light as I have for so long. I refuse the fear. I refuse the hate. I refuse the noise. I take my power back.
Will you stand with me this time? Do I have to ask?
Will you bear arms with me? Will you take up the fight?
For once….I am asking.
