This Is Joy

[Note: I wrote and posted this at 2am last night. I rolled over at 7am and hit delete. I wasn't sure... I just wasn't sure. Blogger saved a draft of it - this is probably a bug in the program, but it worked for me. Alivia encouraged me to post it again, so I am. This time, I'm sure.]

This is called blogging while intoxicated. Liv is here with me, so I have decided that it is fine. Acceptable. To say that this family I made for myself in Portland has given me both roots and wings. And perhaps it is an an accomplishment, the very best, to say that these people love me, no matter what.

(I'll insert a caveat to say that I am over 21 and took a cab ride home; I'll be fine to fly tomorrow, and my friends... we'll put each other to bed. Here's tonight's thoughts.)

DANCE.  Dance like you don't care if you're supposed to be this or that. IT doesn't matter. And on some sleep deprived Friday morning you'll finally, finally, finally understand the importance of movement. You'll see souls light up and principles you research grow pointe toes, while gripping him/ballet bars. You'll tear up in the corner and hope they don't see. But dance. Dance in the corner of the bar. Dance while she spins you around. Dance like your life depends on it. Because it probably does. It always does.

I'm hundreds of miles away. From home and home and home. I'll send the damn text message. And declare in the same breath that the next guy to love me will be lucky. So lucky, because I love hard; the squeeze of her hand, the way I won't let go... and the steps I take in the opposite direction... I'm walking away because it's the only direction the light offers. Fool and fool and fool - risk it! I'm worth it. I promise.

We'll fall asleep on the air mattress while the the tiny fan spins. She'll fall asleep between the two of us, while brides in states far away toast new husbands and I decide to love anyway. Hard and fast. I don't know what to do with everything I can't control - am I the only one reading the signs? Take me now and forever. I don't have the stamina for this. I give up and give in. I'll wash up on the shore and I know someday you'll realize... The waves crash. I'm miles away and hundreds of miles away, but each night I fall asleep to the sound of the ocean, the promise of home, the hope of love. 

You're in my life and you are my life - better than I could have every orchestrated. I'll shout pony at the top of my lungs, and hold your hand from night to dawn. Twirl and pirouette, ceiling paint and gallons of ice cream. I love and love and love and that's more than I could ever ask for. 

It's all more than I could ever ask for.