I know I talk about letting go and loving someone while remaining detached and in theory that’s where we’ll discover the beauty of platonic love or perhaps something closer to unconditional love.
But the truth is that I cannot help but long after someone of whom has stolen my heart. Her mystery eludes me—drifting through the winds, across oceans until finally reaching me.
There’s no reason why I feel the way I do except for the things she says, the way she parts her hair in the mid-summer breeze and how she laughs and giggles when she’s alone, thinking no one is watching.
The way she lets the weight of the world bear itself upon her shoulders and yet she still chooses to smile at me—her glistening eyes revealing her soul to me—mingling every moment possible because we understand how fleeting love can be.
I’m truly not interested in letting this woman go and can’t fathom not knowing what it’s like to lie awake at night, staring up at the stars while we cuddle next to a cozy fire listening to the chorus of crickets and frogs.
Why do we play hard ball about certain aspects of our lives but refuse to face up to something or someone who’s potentially great for us?
It takes a while to really get intimate with someone intellectually and spiritually. Some investments are long-term. Getting to know a complex, beautiful soul requires heartfelt commitment. Patience and time are an excellent catalyst for establishing a qualitative bond with someone.
From where I’m standing I find it hard to imagine not becoming attached to that person who may very well become a best friend and potentially a lover. I love my freedom but I also want my wings tethered at times as well—a woman who will never cage me, yet will seduce me with her mind, body and spirit.
A woman worthy of holding onto is one who captivates a man’s audience just by walking into a room. She will know his thoughts and hear his heart’s whispers. He’ll feel every ounce of pain she’s been through despite her crafty ways of peering through the cracks to absorb the light of every precious day.
The kind of woman worth holding onto is the one who has lassoed his heart and mystified his mind. Her spirit sparks life into his and he feels like he’d simply drift had these two not fatefully met. He understands luck and how lucky he is to have met her finally. He’s grateful she’s lying next to him every morning he wakes.
As necessary as it may be to remain alone for a while, some of us arrive at that time and place in life where we simply want companionship. We feel like we’ve overcome many storms and have weathered much of what has made us strong—what’s taught us how to feel deeply and how to love again.
We seek a silent bond with someone of whom our heart has recognized for eons—really, an eternity. It takes time for this connection to take root but once it has, these two souls cannot make it through one waking day without thinking about this other person whose silent whispers touch them so profoundly—every level of their being.
This is the exception to the rule—one woman I’d marry. Her smile and tears would temper my pride and ego, opening pathways for each of our hearts to coalesce peacefully. Two vulnerable people who are willing to let their guards down for one another and allow their vulnerable natures to be expressed safely can rest assured knowing that for just this one, it’s worth holding on.
I carry about the notion that this woman will walk into my life, most likely at the most miss-opportune time possible to test me and see if I can walk my talk. Am I willing to show up and open myself up to her? Can she trust opening herself up to me? This woman will awaken me to a life I’ve yet barely imagined. She’ll take me by the hand and lead me through the gateways of origins not yet fathomed.
We’ll have likely traveled vast distances before falling to one another’s knees—pride no longer adorning our nature but a humble, sighing relief that our paths have finally converged. Exhausted and starving for the other’s taste we’ve held out on for so long, we’ll hardly be able to keep our hands off one another.
It will be the many love letters, hand-written on scrolls, tossed into the sea of life and a wish every morning that we’ll receive that letter in return or better yet, she’ll be there—maybe today. I can only let go of the dream that someday she’ll arrive but the moment she does, I fear I will only wish to hold onto her love and bow to her majesty and presence I’d be so fortunate enough to share with her.