And after I look through the layers and layers I see we are all of the same flesh. We all beat with the same animal heart. We’re all after survival and love. Above all else, we’re all after love.

There are a thousand different ways of seeing. And there are ways of seeing through people…which is important in its own right at its own time…and there are ways of seeing deeper…to the deep motivations that move all of us. To the pieces and parts and places of our weaknesses that all bond us together through the shields we put up to hide our bandaged bits.

The ways that we try to get others to see ourselves…those are the beautiful and sad bits and the parts that remind me that I am you and you are me and we are all children together. 

And all of it seems to stem from this sense of insecurity. And this need to prove ourselves to each other. And so we sit at these parties and we play game after game after game and speak loudly so we can all make everyone hear what it is that we want them to hear. And surely we are aware, at least subconciously…of the silly games we are playing…but we continue to play them because we need this reassurance so deeply.

And so we try to intimidate each other because we feel indimidated ourselves. I would like to evolve past middle school…but it doesn’t seem like we ever get past the playground. And we’re still doing the same things we did to each other when we were FIVE. And the reason we don’t grow out of them is because that is the very BASIS of our human interactions. This need to be seen and a need to be accepted and loved. And some of us push each other’s faces in the sand and some of us play nice but then steal our juiceboxes and some of us just need to stop playing all together. But this time we know how to play the games better. More complicated…more twisted love triangles…more hurtful words. But I can sit at these parties and see all the fakeness and lies and attention seeking and stop it there…or I can choose to see the deep longing within everyone’s faces to be a part of a greater whole that is a bigger beauty than we are even aware of. None of us wants to be picked last for dodgeball. That’s where it starts and that’s where it ends. I think here and now and later. At proms and at our incestuous theatres parties and at dinner parties and cocktail parties and gallery openings to come. The rules get more complex but we never get off the playground. And so then I keep looking and beyond the cattiness…I see the great bond of human connectivity. For as much as we try to hurt each other…it is coming from a place of childish “look at me mom.” And I can see myself in all of you and all of your games. And I can find a connection within the ways in which we try to disconnect. Because in the end it is deeper than anything we could know or see. And in the end…what is left is love. And it all comes from the deep sea of longing from which we all begin and we all return. Longing for love and to believe that love could be. And yes. I see this because it is what I want to see. I WANT to see the best in people and I want to believe in humanity. So my eyes are attuned to the light and that’s where I’ll keep them. There are things I don’t want to see…but even when I DO see them I can still see beauty in them.  

And we speak and we speak and we speak and we all say the same things in this broken, futile ways. We say look at me. Love me. Give me attention. Look me in the eyes and make me feel like I’m not so alone.

So let me love you. Let me love all of you because you are all me. And we are all we. And we are all love. And we are free in love’s silky embrace.

And I no longer feel insecure about your love for me. I realize that I get so swept up in being hurt and jealous and sad that I don’t even realize what a huge spectacle you’re putting on for me. All the ways you need to reassure me that you’re okay… subconsciously or not…the raucous laugh to tell me that you can have a good time without me. The hordes of meaningless girls…they don’t make me jealous for a moment because I know deeply within me how much you love me. And how much you care. And how hard you’re trying to get over it. Because if you WERE over it…it wouldn’t be so hard to talk to me. It wouldn’t feel like daggers in the room. I understand now that it’s self preservation. And I’m sorry you feel it has to be that way. I’m always here for you though. No matter how frustrating the situation gets my heart never empties. 

And today I danced. I pounded my heart onto the stage and it felt like sheer glory. My feet gripped the wood and I felt that reciprocity in the best way. 

And letting go. That’s unbelievable. It’s the hardest thing. We all have OCD…we ALL obsess…different levels and different meanings but it’s the only reason we can’t just move on from a person. Because there’s a reel that keeps going and going on repeat that we can’t get out. Letting go and changing. Not rehashing the same idea of what it means to be an ex…just playing the same old roles we think we’re supposed to play. Because we can’t get out. Because the patterns keep drilling over and over and the reel keeps churning and spinning the same trodden pathways. Well letting go is breaking free. And it is so mind blowingly hard. But so worth it. If something is comfortable…it is most likely not worth it. Those things that I dread…that push me off the edge…that make my skin crawl…those are the ones worth trying…worth fighting for. So give me life and let me lay my armor down to rest. I want to let go and let the sludge in my mind transform itself to open caskets for life’s bloody, unending love. 

At the end of my life I want to be destroyed by the sheer and utter love in my heart that has taken hold of me and shaken out all sense. I want to be a warrior for love. Of love. With love. 

Take my shoes I want to walk across the stage barefoot and let my energy drip through my toes into the floor beneath me just so I can know I was here once. I touched my own strength once and it felt like buttery love. It felt like wood of wood of wood of me and you and here and now. It felt like wood beneath my feet.

And then I could fly.

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