journal

emancipation


Letlove

Apparently, it's that easy. She made a promise to herself and the wind came in to carry her. This afternoon, hand on the latch, and a nudge was all it needed. The door opens so easily when you want it to, when you are ready.


She is not alone. Love is stepping through with her. Love of a safe heart. Love of an unfurled spirit. Love without borders or calendars or limits or sharp corners or squirrely entanglements. Love of a loved love. A sacred love. A full-to-bursting love.


She walked home imagining a great pair of arms wrapped around her, thinking they were someone else's. But no, it turns out they were hers. And just like that, she was free.