✿ spring in bloom ✿

> "Fear rules all, and this seagull-ass motherfucker is beginning to smell of decay"

The last line of a blogpost I made here in late October. So far removed from this sentiment, I struggle to remember who wrote it. An unsure girl, aching from the shards in her soles, follows a rose petal trail into a tunnel. There is no light to be seen, yet she trusts the petals enough to press on. She couldn't have known where they would lead her. In fact, it could have easily taken eons of guessing to get it right. Still, she had faith that they would take her somewhere greener, somewhere cleaner; I bet she had something beautiful in mind.

Then came December, and with it an opportunity for growth, comradery, and a glimpse into the future. Finally, I could see it and wanted to be a part of it, a part of her. I can pinpoint the moment. It must've been 3am. Her, a friend of ours, and I sit on a couch taking turns to sing and play guitar for one and other. I don't remember the tune, just her facing me as she starts into it. Her voice seemed to penetrate my ears and absorb into the membrane, carrying the sound into my bloodstream, and eventually pumping into my heart. I felt it, that tightness in my chest. Your breathing changes, your temperature rises, and your body feels lighter, as if you might even begin to levitate.

Holy shit.

I remember this feeling. It's lucid. It's intimidating. It's powerful. I'd been waiting for this moment, for the moment in which I could allow myself to fall in love again. However, love does not wait for you to be ready. It throws itself onto you, and demands acceptance or denial. I didn't have a choice. Love threw itself onto me, and it stuck. Little did I know, it had been stuck on her for awhile too.

I always knew that moving to the city would change things. My gut fluttered with excitement for her when I imagined all of the potential she could realize outside of this smudge on a map that we grew up in. She couldn't have known. How could she? She had encased herself in a concrete cocoon of shame, terror, and misery. Yet, with the strength of a million razor sharp diamonds, she cut through that grey prison, and revealed her raw true self to me. I virtually ran into her arms with love, affirmation, and began to knit a blanket of comfort for her to feel safe in. This blanket has grown large enough to fully envelop both of us and now, when alone together, we exist within it naturally.

Today, she is a person neither one of us thought could exist, and she continues to surprise herself and I everyday with new personal developments. Of her own accord, she's taken the tender parts of myself that felt undesirable and exploited, the parts that yearned for genuine care and connection, and through them has created avenues for
healing.
Through this, I've made it clear that I will carefully be following her lead, trying my best to not step on her heels. Her pace is quickening at a rate that I am constantly astounded by, and I am gleefully running hand-in-hand with her.