Before Love.
Written by
Shanae\' Brown
December 2012
Written by
Shanae\' Brown
December 2012

Ran across something I wrote last year about my Beau before he was my Beau... Reflecting is a powerful thing. lol


when i think of the sky, i think of lying underneath it next to him on some comfortable old hammock in the middle of nowhere, somewhere. it’d sway as lazily as our movements were as we laid there, tied securely to the massive branches, never letting Love fall. and it’d make sense cause we somehow found a way to ascend ethereally to the mystery of Love instead of falling into it clumsily, blindly, and i think us a special kind of genius for this fact alone.

i sense the fear because i recognize it so strongly in myself. apprehensive about motives, motivations, intentions … yet seemingly defenseless to the elation his tone brings when my phone rings, or my texts sing, or his image appears on my screen. and we won’t even speak of his presence near my being.

i contemplate if it should be this simple. this plain. while experience has taught me that nothing is this easy, he finds ways to define us just by saying nothing. or everything. or nothing and everything and that’s my favorite part. rendering all else null, it soothes me.

and then i panic.

become afraid. beside myself. anxiously anticipating the big Let Down, yet happily pushing that into the realm of nil things unexpected. and though instinct never fails to attempt to best me; inform me of the need to escape the scrutiny and vulnerability of surrendering to the omnipotence that has gripped hold of me … i stay.

fighting my feet, i press them in clay molds of the hands protecting his heart and plant them until they grow roots, force myself to face myself. and him. and the fact that he’s somehow managed to fit though the cracks of this deceptively icy exterior. warmed me. melted me as i created my own puddle of his interior.

it seems when Love calls my name, i always put it on hold, never click over, ignore the urgency of now. the idea of Love is always easier than the practice of it. but i’m willing to negate past failures for tomorrow’s triumph. willing to let go so i can let live. so maybe now i can accept that good things come to those who wait, and even those who don’t, and are impatient in all things not Love, like myself.

this time, when it calls, i might greet it with hello, or at least a small wave.

cause really, i kind of like him.

Let's be friends

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