You scare me. No... you terrify me.

You're strong and stable.
You're free and floating.

You're a summer breeze.
You're a wild adventure.

You're everything I have ever wanted, and thought I didn't deserve.
And you're going to have power over me.
The power to love me.
The power to break my heart.

The little voice inside me is afraid. It tells me to run to safety, to my familiar little lonely space.

But this is my year of bravery, and that little voice can go straight to Hell.

I wanted to let you know I forgive you for your fear of losing your independence.

The fear that came with a cost: each other.

Remind me who I am.
Awaken me.

Call me by my name.
See me with a  piercing cold clarity.

I'll come running.

From the top of a cliff, I joke with a stranger about my fear of heights.

In response, he jumps into the icy waters below and beckons me to follow.
With a single smile, I am convinced.

I, too, jump.

Another's light fingertips that leave deep gouges in my skin. Is this giving or taking?  

Restless heartbeats intertwined, frantic, exhausted; mixed with explosive breaths.

Skin that isn't mine, both soft and firm.

A body pressed against me.
A merging.
An escape.
A sensation without a thought.

The ability to lose the sense of self to a sense of us.