You’re scared because he makes you feel like you’re flying and you’re terrified of heights. Your body feels so light, you think you will float too. Your head’s up in the clouds, thinking of all the beautiful possibilities, and hope lifts you higher. But in the back of your mind, you know you’ll have to get back to the ground. And darling, you’re worried because with your luck, it will be more of a sudden fall than a safe landing.
Being high up doesn’t scare you, it’s anticipating the fall. How you would fall. It’s the pain of cracking your head open on the pavement. People say that if you die from a fall, it’s sudden. It will be over before you know it. But what if you survive the fall, but you break your bones from the impact that you can’t live the same way as before? You’ve already broken something in you, and the scars on your heart remind you not to jump into anything new right away. After all, a part of you died when you broke it on your first fall.
But no matter how much you try to fight it, gravity still pulls you down. It doesn’t wait for you to be ready. It doesn’t go away when you’re scared. You didn’t mean to find someone else along this path, and now you’ve found yourself at the edge of a cliff with him. Almost ready to jump. But you don’t want to jump alone. It’s not that high up, but your knees lock as you see the waves crashing on the rocks beneath you. You experience that rush again, the high – the pleasure that comes before the pain. Or does the pleasure come with the pain? Or perhaps the pleasure masks the pain. You don’t know anymore.
The way he holds you down you sends your spirit to the skies. He’s taken you higher than you’ve been before. And then he goes away, you come down like you’re going through withdrawal. But he comes back after a while, and you get another hit. So you breathe deeper as you take him in. More of him. You don’t know when you’ll get your next fix, so you try to make this moment last. His grip makes you think he won’t let you float too far away. You’re scared he’ll let go and you’ll fall down. You’re so high that you know you will break when it’s all over, so you try to hold on until you can’t anymore.
Remember that your scars are signs of how you survived falling before. You’ve been broken, but you’re still alive. You know better, and you know yourself better. You don’t need another piece to make you whole again, you’re complete on your own. Don’t be afraid to let go. You never know, maybe this time you’ll fly.
And eventually, you’ll find another heart whose cracks fit in perfectly with yours.