let me rain. let me pour.

let me fall back into myself.

what i am trying to say is,

i know i am not always

the best to you.

but i am always trying

to be.

they don’t talk enough about how hard it is to open yourself up again once something terrible has happened to you. because you’ve done the work. you’ve done the healing, and you’re happy, so it should be easy, right? you should be holding your arms out in welcome.

but you’re not. the thought of letting anybody in again is terrifying. their intentions all feel the same—ugly and slick—even if they aren’t. you are afraid they will leave you suddenly, without warning. you are afraid they will rip open the grief you have so carefully sorted through and sealed away.

and with every new foot of distance you place between yourself and everyone else, you feel yourself growing lonelier. was this the point, you wonder, was this the point of piecing myself back together, just to find myself unable to connect with anybody ever again, for fear of being back in that darkness?

you don’t know how to navigate this new terror, yet. but you know you will have to face it the same way you faced your trauma: slowly, with patience and understanding.

the sun

you have earned

this celebration.

every step of the way

has been leading

to this very moment.

so let your heart

flood with joy.

let it pour out of you.

let yourself

be surrounded by it.

in the mornings

i take my time.

i watch the way

the sunlight dapples

my skin through my curtains,

and i am grateful.

i am grateful for different things each day—

sometimes it is for the bright winter snow,

other times it is for my love, still asleep beside me,

or for the empty day i have ahead of me,

and sometimes it is simply

for the fact that i am

alive.

you are like a phoenix.

you rise from the ashes,

each time stronger

than the last.

just because

they did not see

the beauty they were holding

before they dropped you

does not mean

you are not beautiful.

some people

just don’t realize

what they have

until after

they’ve let it go.

it’s when i’m on the stage,

my soul pouring out of my body

in soaring melodies and outstretched arms,

when i look into the audience and see

the smiles or the tears or both,

when i feel the wave of applause

wash over me, that i think,

i may be unsure about so much,

but this is the one part of me

that will never falter.

i will always know

that this is where

i belong.

i look at you

sitting next to me,

and i wonder,

how long have i been stuck

in the dark,

waiting for a love like this

to come along and

light me up inside?

your fire doesn’t always have to be

something that burns.