journaling september 7th 5:23 pm
I woke up from dreams about mountains. Cliffs, hill, valleys, canyons. We seemed to be on a whirlwind tour of the world’s most beautiful mountains. Velvety green Alps, Shenendoah blue, the Rockies with snow on them. At each place, the same routine of me standing at the edge of a cliff while you take my photo. After you snapped it, you would swing the camera around your neck and reach your arms out for me before I began to look down and realize what this fall could do to me. Your hands on my waist, I’d step back onto solid ground and we’d move from the Rockies to Denali, which in this dream was a mere walk away.
We repeated this routine at every mountain range until it seemed that I was about to fall somewhere in the Pyrnees. I grabbed your outstretched hand but we both fell for what seemed like a very long time until we land in bed. We look at each other for a long time before we start undressing each other. You slide my t-shirt over my head as I unzip your pants. We’re skin to skin on the bed, your hands on my waist the way they were on those mountains earlier, and I feel closer to you than I have ever felt to anyone. I have run from safety, from home forever and you are that. When something is good, my instinct is to run but I’m here now and now you are holding me by the waist and showing me that this is good, this is home. I’m rewiring my brain and it’s happening slowly but surely. I am learning how to love, how to be happy, how to be. My dreams are way ahead of my brain it seems.
6 notes / Permalink
