sick in the thick of (fighting) love, dammit [poem]

        I do(n’t) want to fall in love. (i’m afraid of it)

I don’t want to risk saying goodbye to the fire in my heart, to the dancing queen in my soul, to the get-up-and-go that makes me who I am. I don’t want to leave behind all the things that make me the me I love the most. Free spirit. Artist. Unconventional bohemian babe who teaches yoga and heals with her hands, and also swears like a badass sailor bitch with a shot of Jameson, another of Patrón, and a sweating Busch light on the bar before me. I want to climb those trees in the furry-filled fuzzy Northwest, and those mountain peaks in the sacred Himalayas. I don’t want to make decisions using my left brain. I don’t want to say I’m sorry, and really mean it, when I realize I was less than considerate of the man waiting in the truck. I don’t want to cry when we’re an hour away from our departure point. I don’t want to have nausea, those fucking butterflies that come, or the weight gain or weight loss that accompanies an emotional experience us humans aren’t blessed to have enough to make sense of within our minds. I don’t want to fall. Fuck. I don’t want to fall. I want to cling to my path, one that has no rules, that believes everything is gray—never black and white, ever—but is a foggy gray filled with regular doses of tye-dye and psychedelic hippies and EDM. A path that sings to Bieber and Johnny Cash. That is full of naked swims at sunrise in the Sawtooth mountains, and naked golden-hour dips amongst canoers and fallen birch trees in the Upper Peninsula. It’s a path that lights my life up bigger and bolder than any path I’ve ever tried ever could.

        What’s the worse thing that could happen?  (he asks, my therapist, best one ever)
        I roll my eyes, laugh at how silly it sounds, but I tell the truth
For me, the worst thing that could happen is he could be my forever person and I could change and get married and have some babies and live in the woods amongst the woodpeckers and fawns and…
        I laugh. I cry. So does he
        This hurts (my ego who is not vulnerable but strong and willfull and free, don’t you see!)
the reason I’m most terrified is because this is truly unexplored (and i don’t know how to do it)

how do you just be, without a heady head swirling with option and adventure?
how do you just let go of agenda, roles, and truthly keep both feet inside the door?

        just be, I suppose
        let life happen, I suppose
        feel the feelings, I suppose
        cry and vomit and let yourself be
        sick in the thick of love, damnit

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