distance, despair, distraction

distraction has been my enemy

in recent days, i find the lulls and moments that i would usually reserve for You

are spent longing for dreams that have nothing to do with You.

i'm sorry.

it feels like i have taken a trip in my mind, 

somewhere far and lonely,

convincing myself that you are still the One I have been chasing

but i have been changing.

i have felt my devotion waver,

i have felt my faith falter

i have screamed and blamed and cursed you in childish ways

i have chosen disappointment as my cloak of honour

and rejection as my crown,

i have thrown away your relentless pursuit

and wondered in a wilderness that was never mean for me–

i'm sorry.

i have isolated myself in my despair

and held you at arms length while tending to my own wounds.

i have failed to let you into the process,

i have failed to allow you into the journey– and i'm sorry.

i want to begin again,

i want to go back to where you are my every waking thought,

my bright and morning star,

the hero of my heart.

i want to go back to where my trust in you does not depend on what i see,

but on solid truth that i read.

oh that distance would turn into the deepest of intimacies,

that i would call you home again,

that i would come running.

to be held by you

how do i explain, that i have been here, but also far?

it has not been about a lack of time with you,

but about a lack of intimacy.

our intimacy has suffered and i am not sure how.

i still spend my days with you,

i still think of you always

but i have felt my fondness die,

my affection dimmer.

i have felt pain lie to me

i have felt like all the while i have been here with you,

talking, but saying nothing.

i don't want our friendship to get lost in service.

i don't just want rhythm and routine with you,

i want hysterical laughter and hushed whispers too.

i want the intimacy

i want the roar of deep belonging

i want the oneness of knowing you.

i no longer want to sacrifice our intimacy for duty

i want to stop dusting myself off each time i fall,

but instead run into your arms and let you brush off the dust and tend to the brusies.

for me,

that is intimacy.

that i would not 'get myself together' before approaching you

but that i would fall into your arms and let you clean me up,

that i would bring you into the places of deep despair,

that i would let you cradle me until i am whole again.

remind me that you never tire of this.

remind me that you enjoy this.

because somewhere along the line,

i have forgotten what it feels like to be held by you