Love and Bravery

No question that love makes you brave and makes you do brave things. It's such a boundary-basher. It roars through town. It takes all prisoners or no prisoners depending on what serves its purposes on a given day, a given hushed evening at sunset. It's creative and destructive in the name of re-creation and recreation.

Making the decision to love, pushing forward, or yielding to the allure of loving someone, laying back in affirmation, means you are going for broke. You are not hedging your bets. You lay it on the line.

If you're in, you're in all the way, to the hilt, no turning back to find an easy way home. In love you lose your bearings. The path back is covered in an instant. Beach sand footprints, blown away in an instance. Look back over your shoulder to see ... nothing. You don't even remember where your were before or WHO you were. You are changed.

Passion and love and sex make a mess of everything, but make everything perfect too. Loving someone does not require a permission slip, like a field trip to the museum.

When you reach out to touch me, I love the bravery of it. I might say yes, I might say no, I might take your hand and divert it, or perhaps, put it on my heart, let you hear the racing beats, but none of that matters. It was the moment of reaching out that was full of fire and courage. I love that you dared to reach out. You had me right then and there.