There you are. Facing away from me. Your shoulders expand with every exhale. It’s almost hypnotic how calming it is to listen to you breathe. It’s mundane, and I enjoyed every fleeting second of it.
I slowly reach a couple of fingers to your bare back and start tracing a pattern on it, gliding slowly, gently catching your skin with my jagged nails. It’s a slight tickle trying to figure out if it should be a scratch. You moan, inviting the touch. I pull you closer to me, I need to feel your warmth against me. You moan gently.
I keep moving my fingers tracing the contours of your curves, touching your shoulders, running my fingers down the spine of your back, I work your shoulder blades. I knead your neck gently.
Whatever I was afraid of, whatever anxiety I had was suspended for a moment and it felt like hours.
As my hands survey your body’s lines, contours, and marks I mumble something, a low grumble—
In the middle of the dark forest, you sit there and play with your favorite things. You don’t care about what was; you care about what is. And what you’re doing is all that matters. It was a time when playing and being around loved ones was all that mattered.
The sky turns a new blue shade, slowly changing to soft greys—puffy clouds become a thick grey sheet of cold.
You set your things down. The unknown beckons to you. You’re curious to see what it’s all about, this thing, this unknown, this new expanse. You want ahead, and the forest seems to grow, the trees bigger, the solitude nearly suffocating, and your heart beats a little faster. Why are the trees turning on you. They are your old friends after all! But they provide you assurance amidst the self-doubt. You’re strong. You have learned the lessons. Trust yourself, the trees tell you.
You pick up your step, and you run. The light from above begins to pierce the thick canopy, shooting beams down at you. In the clearing, you find unfamiliarity; what you left behind seems like ages ago; it’s back there, but you can’t go back anymore. You can only go forward toward the unknown. Your heart is heavy. You miss your friends, your loved ones, you miss feeling safe. You miss not caring about feeling safe. The unknown is dangerous. But you’ve been walking into the unknown your whole life. You try new things, Read books about faraway places, and learn about people who have lost, hurt, ached, and overcome—it’s familiar to you, a little too familiar, you think to yourself.
Your story is largely unwritten. It’s scary and exciting all at once. The trees give way to bluer skies and warmth. The sun shooed away the trees. You make it to the point of contentment, the precipice of being alright.
The forest is behind you. You’re standing at the top of a grassy knoll—You could just roll down the tall grass into the meadow below, and so you do with a fuck-it-all abandon. It’s scary, but you recover, and you dust off the dirt and pulled grass and burrs. Your people are there. You are fine. You are brave; you’ve proven that it’s not so scary, this place. It’s not easy, and it hurts sometimes. If you’re brave enough to love, you’re brave enough to live.
And today is just another day to become. Become who, you ask? Silly, whatever you want. I double-dog dare you.