light

When I listen to him sing, eyes closed and the music turned on loud from my speakers, my heart feels so big, enormous even, that I'm afraid it won't fit inside of me anymore.

We'll be connected by a secret light, starlight.

thank you

I've done a lot this past year, whether it was tackling something out of my comfort zone and being one of the few girls in a karate class, travelling to places I've only read about, getting over my fear of heights and rockclimbing, being in immense pain from training for a half marathon, or shaking and shrieking from seeing one of my favourite boy bands perform live.

I feel a great sense of pride in the things I've accomplished this year. But what I'm most happy about, and most thankful for, are the people in my life. All of those things I did with, worked on, or received support from the people I loved.

So thank you for making me the person that I am. Thank you for listening to me, for laughing with me, for dancing with me, for fighting with and for me, and for taking care of me. Most of all thank you for loving me.

I love you.

Whether whispering secrets or shouting til my voice is hoarse
Of all the friends I've made and all the lost debates
There's none that I would trade for anything

you know this already

You tell me you're afraid of falling in love, that you'll never be able to let someone in completely - and so you won't.

But you're wrong. I know this because I can hear the incredible joy and frustration and warmth in your voice when you talk to her, and when you talk to me about her from the colour of her eyes to the next big decision she has to make in her life. I can feel how your body tenses up when you look at her, and how your arms fit around her body to make sure that it fits with yours. I can see the whole heart you've given her already.

So be honest. Be courageous. And love her utterly, fully, and completely with your entire heart.

this

I don't think about this often, but when I do, I'm struck again about the enormity of it - how the two of us share something that I will think about for the rest of my life. You were there. You held my hand as we sat side by side on the long bus ride, and when they called my name. You were there when it was over too, and told me that it would be okay. But you were probably just as terrified as I was.

We don't know each other anymore. I don't remember your phone number, your birthday, or what your voice sounds like even. I don't know what makes you tick, what you like reading in bed when you can't sleep, or what brand of coffee gets you up in the morning fastest. But we do share this, and it'll be the only thing that will ever connect us.

at least

My bare feet rest on your cool hardwood floors, left cheek flush against the bedsheets, hair a mess. You're leaning back in your chair, chin resting on your hand and glasses pushed back in your thick hair. We're listening to her sing about lonely people in the city, and you explain to me how sad this song makes you feel, eyes bright and fingers fluttering over your face. I turn to lie on my back and listen to your voice go up and down and up again. The both of you talk about humid summer nights that stick to your skin, and our untapped ability to fall in love. I close my eyes and take solace in the fact that at least we have each other in our own city.

giving up

What if it's too difficult? What if I cry?
What if we don't have words to fill the empty spaces anymore?

What if we lose our spark?
What if we lose sight of each other?

What if you're not who I you think are?
What if I'm not who you think I am?

What if you don't make the jump? (and I do?)
What if you jump first?

What if I never let you in?

I'm giving all of them up for you.

I don't want to say this out loud yet, because it's too big, too scary to think about. But I have a good feeling about this.

dancing

we thought we'd never dance again
so scared of second chances
but now there's something happening
you make me want to dance!
you make me want to move!
you make me want to make a new dance up

and you know all the moves
because it's our dance

{Make a new dance up - Hey Ocean!}

Let's go dancing!

that night

A stranger sees our smiling faces illuminated by an eerie white glow as we roll past her - the light's actually from the "we're open" neon sign, the flashing erratic dashboard signals, the screen on my cell phone. Your head lolls on my shoulder as you mumble about the healing powers of french fries, and I push your head back up to prevent you from tumbling down again. I have my other arm outside the car window as we wait for the poor soul working at the drive through to take our order, our laughter fed by jokes only we understand. We all feel something that night, but we can't quite pinpoint what it is.

We will never know how lucky we were.

well the words, well they slip

And this is what I feel every morning when I wake up next to you. I feel it when you let the sun skip across the planes of your face, and when we smother each other in morning breath and kisses and barely coherent mumbling in the few moments before waking. When we listened to frogs exchange friendly conversations in the dark, with the sky above us lit up by a spiderweb of stars. When you laughed over something a good friend had said, and how happy you looked then - mouth open wide and the corners of your eyes all wrinkled up. When you told me you loved me.

Terrified and utterly helpless is what I feel - but also exhilarated, and strangely comfortable with the idea that this could work. That maybe you can take me as I am and I can take you as you are. That I can make the space to fit you in.