it’s been a while

it’s been a while since her last visit.

she creeps in when i am most trusting and vulnerable, two feelings i have felt very strong lately.

sit down, i want to tell you a story, i tell her.

i once lay in a pool of warm water in puerto penasco, sonora. the ocean’s tide had gone down, creating safe pools to swim in, the sun’s warmth relaxed my every muscle, all pressures of life had been silenced by the beauty and silence around me. as i lay there calm, swimming when my body felt like moving, allowing myself to be vulnerable to my surroundings, with out my knowing or feeling it, the tide went from really low to too quick for my body, moving, it felt as if she had woken up from a nap, strong and rested, a large wave of water moved me, she took me in, as if she was swallowing me whole.

before i realized what was happening, understanding only that i felt i was being pulled in by a force much more powerful than my body, soft, strong, warm she was, i began swimming to shore. my mind, arms, legs, heart beat, breathing, all in sync. i didn’t give myself the option of breathing in fear. i just swam.

then i realized that as she was pulling me in, she was also helping me get back to shore. with each pull in, she returned with a strong wave that i could use to advance me further, closer to the sand.

when i realized how much she was trying to help me get home safe, i also noticed how warm, large, and comforting she felt on my skin. i was tiny compared to her, but i am also made of her so i have my own unique strength as well. calling on the water within me, trusting that she’d get me back safe, i felt a strong push, she spit me out and i crawled out once i felt the ground beneath me.

after i shared my story with her, la melancolia, felt less heavy on my heart.

i want to tell her the truth, that i was so sacred when she entered me this morning. i felt her crawling on my skin. i desired nothing more than to peel her off. my heart began to beat fast, my breath became short. i didn’t know if i was going to be able to sit through it or if i would run out screaming, crying for help.

gracias a la vida that i began writing, sharing this story with her, reminding myself that en esta vida todo pasa, life keeps moving, we keep walking.

i can’t say i feel “better”…her presence is strong and too often it joins with impatience, self-doubt, and worry making it harder for me to sit with her.

bueno, maybe i will play her a song and we can dance together for a bit, getting acquainted with each other once again, for how ever long she chooses to stay this time.

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