Who’ll be the last to die for a mistake
The last to die for a mistake
Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break
Who’ll be the last to die, for a mistake
Springsteen, Last to die
There is so much to be grateful for. It would be easy to spend my days feeling sorry for myself but, despite the fact that we have been forced to live so long apart, the simple fact remains; I have her, she exists. And my life is so much the better for it.
I lived in a world that held no sign of her for so many years and now she fills every corner of it. She is everywhere; my heart, my mind, my soul. She even lives in my body, having almost as much control over my physical reactions as I do myself.
She’s a shaft of sunlight through a frosty window, drops of rain falling on spring grass, the silvery moon breaking through the clouds on the deepest of dark nights. She is all of these things to me but, mostly, she is a very veridical, very human woman, full of flaws and insecurities, anxieties and darkness; as are we all.
I wasn’t looking for a fantasy, was less than interested in some fairytale princess. I was looking for the place where life gets real, where I knew I could no longer pretend. And that’s what I have found with her. Here I must love fully, unguardedly, or else slink home like a dog with its tail between its legs.
She keeps me honest, won’t let me compromise on matters of the heart. There is a kind of grace in that because when you are given no other choice but to be who you truly are – and are therefore forced to own your faults – you cannot avoid evolving; it just happens. That’s the opportunity soul love offers, a shot at becoming the best version of yourself.
This is why I am grateful. Before she came I was running out of time, at serious risk of getting through my entire life living as somebody else. What a tragedy it would have been for me to die without ever knowing who I truly was.
Words and image are my own.