All my secrets, the things I long to say tumble out of me like a sparkler shedding bits of light all around us.
I tell you the things that I dare not say, half asleep, half awake and aware of what my secrets were I watch them reveal themselves as though I have not said a word. The ideas are alive at last and free from tethers of shame they leap from me. In the sunshine they feel nothing but ease as new born and new life, they laugh rather than cry. They are in the world at last.
I tell you the things that haunt me, the desires that make me half blind with joy and I tell you … I tell you …
But then I come to, I realise I have not said anything I meant to say. I curl up again into myself. I am at once disgusted for almost revealing myself and not having the courage to do so.
I want to sleep, I know than when I do I will pull good sense around me like a blanket and awake tomorrow refreshed and safe.
Safe from what, I don’t know now. But what do I know now other than how to be mad with myself?
Anytime I've made the leap terrifying myself momentarily, I've never regretted it later.
You are wise and right- it is the leap that is hard though.
Thank you for saying that- it helps.
You sound so sad. You must indeed be overtired! This is not for the feint of heart. Revealing yourself takes courage. For me it continues to be an ongoing struggle. One small step at a time works, but then I also like to ease into the pool one inch at a time. Closing my eyes and jumping is too much of a shock to the system. As long as we get there, right? Besides, the journey is worth quite a bit, in and of itself.
Sara, you are totally right. I was far, far too tired and had reached that point where I didn't even want to sleep.
I love the way you look at this, gently and as a journey. You helped too.
Thank you.
I am leaving this post up, I had considered taking it down as it is not well written or useful but I think maybe I should leave it there because people sometimes have bad days and I said I would be honest.