I took a late night flight out of town last night and each mile away from you shattered me that much more. This is hard for me. Really hard. I’m so independent. I’m fire. I wreak havoc all on my own. I create warmth all on my own. I can be so inviting. I can’t go slowly. I need to take it so easy, because I might end up leaving you burned. I understand the human psyche in a way that I think most people don’t. That’s my blessing and curse. I see potential and I want to chase after it. I need a small kindling to create a wildfire within us both. I don’t know what it is about love that calls out to me.
I want to ignite us, but it doesn’t work that way in a world that wants to run from thoughts, feelings and people that make us want to be better versions of ourselves. I want to ignite us, but I recognize that the hottest fires take time to build. I want to build a fire that lasts, but if I’m honest with you, I’m scared. I’m afraid that yet again I’ve wasted time and energy on something that will be left in ashes. I want you to be the air to my fire. The air that comes in to help build this flame. Yet, somehow there are days where I see you more as the water to my fire wanting to put me out before we even have a chance to grow. Please don’t let go of us before we have a chance to flourish, to ignite, to create a heat so brilliant even the brightest light in the sky will be left dazzled.
That being said, are you air or water?