I'm glad I've learned not to hold my breath, but to surrender while walking - hoping you will catch the white flag and write something back. I've learned that unfinished stories, loops that cannot be broken, still drum in your belly if time tells your nerves that this is not done.
If you never felt pain during take off, the struggle to not start something unknown, it was not meant to be a part of your story. If it drums in your heart day and night, you are not done. I've learned how to tightrope months of silence into smiles that sometimes make it past my eyes, knowing that silence will only cause a burning against your spine from the weight of waiting.
I will not leave your doorstep until you say so. I will not put down the pen until you take it out of my hands. But this time around as I slide the white flag across the table, I will not include a jar full of expectations, except one. =
To give it back.
If you never felt pain during take off, the struggle to not start something unknown, it was not meant to be a part of your story. If it drums in your heart day and night, you are not done. I've learned how to tightrope months of silence into smiles that sometimes make it past my eyes, knowing that silence will only cause a burning against your spine from the weight of waiting.
I will not leave your doorstep until you say so. I will not put down the pen until you take it out of my hands. But this time around as I slide the white flag across the table, I will not include a jar full of expectations, except one. =
To give it back.
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