There’s a way in which I am holding back, from the deepest parts of my heart.
And I’ve only just become aware of it.
Just recently been able to string it together
The hints of it in a small collection of instances and odd occurrences.
A dream that left me feeling heavy
An inner resistance to a mundane change that didn’t make sense
A hesitation, around one of the most basic and fulfilling forms of expression
And strangely,
It’s because I already love so breathlessly…
with such awe
and such reverence,
That it’s hard to tell that there are even deeper wells inside of me to access.
I’m holding back for a reason familiar to humanity.
I’m holding back, because I have lost before.
And that loss, builds a barrier.
Even if it’s thin enough to let love through as it grows, changes, expands.
Portions of whole heartedness still get caught in the web that is left.
And time doesn’t heal completely,
if you don’t take the time
to understand the effect your own story has on you.
And the benefits of avoidance,
or oblivion,
do not outweigh the heartbreak
of not experiencing the truest
and most unabashed depths of love.
The love of motherhood.
The love from being a wife & partner.
I want to be able to devour these emotions wholly and completely
and let them pour freely out of every pore in my heart and body and soul.
and to be able to do this…
I think I need to tell my story.
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