Ink Stained Soul…

I forgot about allowing another to decide. It isn’t a small thing, and yet I forgot. How often do we do this? What if we just said the truth inside us? I want to shield you from my storms, but I also want you with me in mine. Why can’t it both be true? Is love about protecting them, or is it a lie we tell ourselves? It could be the fear of rejection if they can’t or won’t handle it. Perhaps it’s the fear that we’d just be toxic. Maybe it is love because we know we have so little to offer but our messy selves. The heart doesn’t grasp the difference, and we can punish without full understanding. The throat gets caught on the fear left in us when we say what we need and are met with indifference. Deep wounds were already ingrained before we ever met. What if you just gave yourself? Could you stay? Would they be around when you run? Can you grow? What if you dared to heal together? Shouldn’t all parties have a chance to decide what they want to do? Can you allow someone into the dialogue in your head?