Elements of Love
On rare but painful days, love can feel like an expanding force, threatening to crack my ribs as it tries to grow, taking as much space as possible. It hurts and it builds, just like growing pains did, leaving a stronger me in its wake.
A couple of times, it has been more like a burn, consuming me from the inside out, overtaking my thoughts, trying to erase everything else from existence. But it’s not eternal fire, this fire roars and then quickly dies.
Every now and then, it will be like a constant wave, rising and falling, never enough to drown me but taking my breath, filling my lungs, pushing me under. On those days you have to talk louder, clearer, and understand me through the water barrier that threatens but never succeeds in bringing me to the very bottom of the sea.
But most days, it’s like a gust of wind that brings me higher, and higher, and higher. It spins me from one place to another, it shows me the world while it sustains me, and in an odd way, it keeps me safe from the tornadoes and the hurricanes. It’s gentle and everpresent, exciting yet constant.
And yet, tornadoes have succeeded in pulling us apart, while we struggle to meet in the eye of the hurricanes. If we could just make it there.
Alas, the elements can’t bring us together as they used to. Earth has taken a hold of our feet, and moving towards each other has become a titanic task.
I’m grounded, with tentative roots trying to tie me to the wrong place. Is there a way for me to take the water from the sky and continue growing upwards until my branches reach you once again?
I have become an expert at uprooting myself but that doesn’t make it any less painful. I’ve befriended dozens of beautiful flowers I’ve had to leave behind. They were not forget-me-nots but I remember them all.
And yet, I find myself as ready as always to tear my incipient roots once again, watch as the salvia pours from them as I let the wind take me once again, bringing me closer to you.
And once our tornado places us together, at last, leaving us where we were always meant to be, then I’ll welcome the water from the sky. I’ll let myself stay, taking nourishment from the soil, growing stronger, sharing our shades. Inevitably, our branches will be forever intertwined.
Love won’t be consumption by fire or drowning by sea, it will be steady growth and gentle breeze.
