To the lovers past for all you have shown me.
Updated: Jul 7
I am fluid in my intimate relationships. I do not identity for monogomous or polyamorous. I believe that every relationship has a unique flowing dynamic. I believe that something that lasts a short amount of relative time can be just as potent as a long term relationship. I see that things ebb and flow, change, take shape, and that to attempt to box something into a way that is perceived as the "right" way is quite rigid and takes potency away from a dynamic.
In all transparency, this has been my most vulnerable writing to post publicly. I went back and forth making this public and then turning back into a draft version.
I started a practice when I moved from Philadelphia in 2018. The practice was to start writing love letters of gratitude for those who I shared intimate loving space with, and/or for those who captured my heart & taught me about myself. I wrote the letters as a way to clear cords of attachment with a lover and/or someone who deeply impacted my heart. Not all were necessarily "lovers". I wrote these letters of gratitude to complete full closure from my side, as a way to bow in appreciation and to move forward without any lingering strings. That way, there is room for another. And, that way, when the other does come, I am fully present for them rather than being caught up in past memories of what might have been.
What struck me, is to observe that my writings aren't about the long term relationships or the "traditional" partnership. The ones I write to are the ones that moved in a state of fluidity and freedom. By no means does this discount longer term partnerships. In fact, that letter would be much too long to read. What I believe, in general, is that time is relative to what we learn within our heart. The ones who are most potent transcend the idea of what something "should" look like when it comes to love. There is no right or wrong way. Every connection is unique in what it needs so that one another can reach their full potential.
For the woman who showed me that it doesn’t matter if one is a she/he/they, my heart knows no bounds in identity. That I see the other's heart first and open to the connection. That this body is a vessel that is in an ebbing flow. To this woman who saw me deeper than any other, who encouraged my wings to spread, who shows up in her own vulnerability and journey. To our resonate love for nature and expressing our wildness. Thank you for the reminder that the path I take is not a straight one, but instead, a heart guided fluid and flowing path.
To you- in learning new ways of intimacy. For transparent conversation of equal attraction and mutual understanding that neither of us were in a place to be sexually involved without the risk of hurting the other. To finding new ways of expressing attraction that have nothing to do with sex. For the nights spent circling one another on the dance floor. To lips becoming so close but never close enough. To sitting together for hours in singing and meditation in front of the wood burning stove, to lying on the forest floor hand in hand. For being honest with where we were in full responsibility in how we show up for another. For a timeless connection that goes much further than the physical plane.
And to you- For openness in expressing mutual attraction. For your honesty in saying that you were still attracted to another lover but also wanted to explore being with me. For your courage in saying you weren’t able to be present as things progressed. For sitting there in that restaurant when I was hurt and angry and receiving me fully. For holding space for us both to show up fully in our humanness and our wounding. For remaining my friend. Knowing you is what inspires me to make my move back to Colorado. Thank you for encouraging me to express the wild climbing nature of myself. The one who inspires to lay in the dirt and endlessly explore.
To the man in Colorado who knows how to reflect the core of who I am right back to myself. The man whose eyes met mine on the dance floor, whose hand I held at closing circle, introducing ourselves after the dance. To him who was the beginning of the end of a relationship. The past few months I have grasped for him, reaching all the way back to Colorado, wanting to pull this man close again. What I have realized is that I want to pull myself close again, those pieces and parts I set aside when I moved to the east coast. I set aside my wildness, my uninhibited rolling in the dirt. What I have been grasping for in him, is the reflection I need of me. Wanting someone to truly see me, the way he does, for the wild that am because of the depth in which he has known me. These parts within me have been raging. My insides are on fire with a passionate longing to be back on the road. To be back on alpine cliffs, to feel desert sands, to bathe in the rivers instead of a compartmentalized fiberglass shower. I miss the smell on sap on my skin, and the smell of Colorado dirt in my hair. And thank you for smearing mud on my face. Thank you for gracefully and kindly telling me to move on. I laid in bed with you that night I visited in February and realized you were right, move on.
I don’t want to get out without a broken heart. I intend to leave this life so shattered
there’s gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my separate parts. “Royal Heart,” Andrea Gibson
You walk tall and shine bright like an angel regardless of the heartache and pain you have experienced. It’s those cracks that have allowed your light to radiate through. There’s no missing sweet your presence through the dark city streets. When I think of you, I think of roof deck evenings watching the sun set over the city skyline. I think of 11 mile city wanderings, get caught in downpours, and a basement kitchen that floods and turns into an indoor pool. I think of hundreds of books and a long reading list. I felt safe with you, like no harm could come to me in your presence. Your open heart and open communication stood out. At no point was I ever suspicious of your intentions. You are crystal clear. You speak your heart and you live in your truth. As I drove away from Philadelphia the thought of you brought my tears. Whoever you attract next in life will be lucky to have found you. Your children are blessed to have you as a father.
I have yet to laugh so much with anyone than with you. Late night goofballs. Laughing to tears. I know whatever you do, wherever you go, you will change the world for the better. You are the earth protector. The pow wow dancer, the speaker to the hawks, herons, and eagle, spirit talker, song of the earth, prayer of the wild. When I think of you I remember the smell of jasmine oils, I remember the rhythm of our dance on the hardwood floors, I feel the affection in my body. I think of Native American songs sang through the woods. I lost you to your travels to Guatemala, I lost you to your path that you are committed to walk. I support you every step of the way. I still have your token you brought back to me. Every time I wear it, I am reminded of my own commitment to this earth. You reflected to me my inner child, my lightness, my ability to open fully to the love I deserve in this life. You reflected back to me unwavering trust in spirit and unstoppable purpose to that. You reflected back to me the warrioress that I am.
You. A six year yo-yo of distance and closeness. A man who was once always present in my heart. A magnet, regardless of our lack of communication and misunderstanding. You drove me crazy. I wanted to shake you until you open up. I could feel the wideness of your heart and your ability to give and that’s what kept me there so long. I swallowed my words to you. My throat would close up despite how many times I have told you I loved you, knowing I wouldn’t hear it back, though you held me tight each time and mumbled inaudible things. Being vulnerable to you terrified me because I couldn’t feel your own willingness to be vulnerable with me and tell me what you were feeling. I felt like I was pushing against a concrete wall. Yet, you were also the beginning of me learning to be loved. I still see you sitting across from me in that awful meeting at the Foundation six years ago. I remember you walking towards me that Halloween night and the first time I kissed you. You showed me the beauty of the city, and the beauty within me at a time in my life where I was crumbling in pain. I miss our coffee mornings, dog walks, garden visits, and visiting your home that is half jungle. I’m grateful we aren’t blind from the eclipse, staring at the sun wondering why nothing was happening. Instead, we found the sting rays dance by the ocean shore to be more compelling than the eclipse above us. I often wonder if my return to Philadelphia was my subconscious decision to return back to you. And my leaving was me giving up and moving forward.