You still want to be friends?

friends

You still want to be friends?

You and me,

we’ve done a lot together.

Explored some unfamiliar territories,

stretched to some unknowing edges.

We let out the dark parts. The raw parts.

You and me,

said some things,

Love and hate,

To connect and disconnect.

Felt some things,

both ecstasy and that dark primal heat.

Consumed and drowning in pleasure,

tearing at our hearts raw and beating.

Discomfort. For sure.

Boundaries crossed. Definitely.

Violations. Check.

And is there love?

You and me,

is it possible to be friends?

Even after all that?

I wasn’t good,

I wasn’t close to good.

I was too much and not enough,

I was all consuming and retracted.

I followed the rules and broke them all.

I let you in my heart and pushed you away.

I was honest and manipulative.

I was controlling and free.

I was out of control and tightly zipped.

I was light and dark.

Is this friendship?

I told you everything. Unfiltered.

The good, bad, provoking, tantalizing.

All of it from the inside out.

I opened up myself in dark places I rarely go.

Untethered and angry.

Messy crazy unbuttoned and real.

Even after all that.

You still want to be friends?

I’m challenged by that admission.

I’m confronted to know that there is enough love between us to have.

That I can be that awful and you still want to be friends.

I am now sobering up.

Embarrassed that I couldn’t see that you didn’t want me that intimately.

Terrifically humiliated by my behavior. And shocked.

It leads me to sit with myself.

Do I have enough love for myself to forgive myself and stay connected?

Is this my ego at play that I can’t bend towards loving these parts of me?

My own admission that I have lots of for love you but I don’t have enough love for myself yet. That. Breaks my heart.

So for now.

I’m working on befriending myself.

Figuring out how to be friends with everyone while I’m loving myself in places that feel unlovable.

Bending my ego, wrestling it down to allow for my imperfections, darkness, flaws to be loved.

 

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