glowing ember, burning hot, and burning slow.
i was fifteen and i was in love and i was consumed with this boy in a way that maybe you only ever can be at fifteen. i only ever spoke the words to one adult, during that time. i knew it wasn’t something anyone would consider real, i knew it would be like telling people that e.t. had visited me in the middle of the night. it wasn’t a good thing, it wasn’t a good relationship, and it was complicated. it was built in hidden corners and built in my heart, but only in mine. but this is where i learned what love felt like.
deep within i’m shaken by the violence of existing for only you.
it was perhaps my first real lesson at the art of giving ones self up for another. this was a first try at disappearing, my opacity reducing daily as i sunk into something, got wrapped up in a tornado, what would be the first of many in my romantic life. it has been over a decade, and i’ve learned since then that you must not do this, you must always remain you, regardless of your ties. you must find a point of solidity and you must hold to that, even if it is just a point, and hopefully it is more, but a point, you can build upon.
and i had the sense to recognize that i don’t know how to let you go.
it was so long ago, so of course, it is done and over. we have flitted back and forth to each other over time, usually in crisis, but now i think things have reached a certain stasis. i knew then, somehow, that we would not leave each other’s lives – call it a vision, a prophecy, a feeling – and i was right. it is with a certain pride and tenderness that i look upon our friendship now, and a gratitude, a deep gratitude. but i remember walking suburban streets that summer with this song ringing in my ears, and knowing the weight of loss for the first time.
(italicized text is lyrics from sarah mclachlan’s do what you have to do)