Serenity.

A warm cup of coffee in cold hands.
Quiet stillness on a porch.
The sounds of water and birds.

A book in my lap, transporting me to another world.

Remind me who I am.
Awaken me.

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

I'll come running.

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.

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.

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 have begun to forget who I was before I met you.

The thoughts that used to consume me are growing hazy.
The life I once desired seems more like a fictional novel, a character, a bedtime story.
It's distant.
It's no longer mine.

I'm no longer sure there was a before.
It only feels like there's a now.
It only feels like there's our future.

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.

You freed me.

And when I return to the safely fenced space, you open the gate and remind me there's a whole world out there, waiting.