Day Dreamer

I’ve always been labeled the quiet one; bad at conversations. Shy. Introverted. An empath. Overly Sensitive. A dreamer. So much of my childhood was spent day dreaming. I felt like I was asleep; waiting for my next big adventure. More specifically- waiting for an adventure. Any adventure. One that never seemed to come. “Get your head out of the clouds…,” “Where did you go?” My imagination was so much more exciting than real life. I think my childhood was spent in a self-imposed chrysalis.Β A phase I have returned to many times in this life.

What is the meaning of life? What is my purpose? What is my truth? What are my ideals? What am I to become? How many times do we reboot and start over? Reinvent ourselves? Rebirth.

I wonder if other people feel this way? Like: There just HAS to be more to this life than simply being a meager work drone. I need balance. There are times it feels that I am on auto-pilot; going through the motions. Sleep walking. It’s ironic, how suddenly, my senses will suddenly awake me. Jolt me back to being. Memories. A song, a scent, a sound, a touch: suddenly I am alive. That moment when I feel I’ve been here before. Deja vu. Who knows if there is an afterlife? By the time you can answer this question- it’s too late to share the information with the living. Or, maybe, I am just so present in the moment that it just feels like I have been here before?

Solitude. I value it highly. I do struggle with friendships and being around people. I find it draining. I find it difficult to build bonds. And yet, I long for the human experience. Nature: earth, water, fire, and air. These are the things that rejuvenate me; that make me feel alive. Creativity. Art. Literature. Writing. Without my moments of solitude, these are things that cannot grow. My creativity will feel stifled, flaccid, and dead. Sometimes, I crave the darkness so that my light may shine.

For love and acceptance, I yearn. I think it may be overrated; more appropriately, I fear it is.

The Fairytale:

“I want passion and pancakes on Sunday morning. I want soul shattering honesty, pillow fights, and laughter. I want someone to dismantle me, piece by piece. I want to miss someone so badly it hurts. And 3am phone calls because they can’t fall asleep without me. I want a love so painfully raw we tear at each other because we can’t get close enough. I want madness and depth. I want someone to take up residence in my soul with no thought or intent of ever leaving.”

I want a love that will stand the test of time. My lover and my best friend: all wrapped into one with a ribbon on it. And passion. Yearning. Late night conversations all whilst being cocooned in between the sheets- joined so close that I don’t know where he begins and where I end. I want to belong to another human being. Someone who loves me so much, they want to give me their last name. (But not in the traditional sense).

Someone who craves my kisses, my smiles, my laughter, and my joy. Someone I can fully let down my guard with. Someone who understands there are going to be days when I am going to cry. There are going to be days when I’m sad or feeling inadequate; insecure. Someone who won’t leave when the going gets rough. Someone who feels my obsession and is not intimidated by my intensity. A bond so strong that it cannot be broken by the lust of another or a wandering eye; a wandering heart; or a wandering soul. Someone so connected to me that they literally are a part of me.

At some point, I want to stop drifting like a tumble weed in the desert. I want to build roots like a mighty oak. I want to have many far reaching branches. I want to live with reckless abandon. I want to taste each delicious experience life has to offer. I open my heart. I open my soul. I am determined to live with a vulnerable transparency. I will be the light. I will be the sun. I will be the full pregnant moon; the milky way. LIVE. It’s what this LIFE was meant for.

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