Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Spotlight

She loves like a child, like a child that has never known hurt.

Adult love is different. Adult love is love that has known hurt, disappointment, loss. Adult love is reserved, held until we realize that it's okay to love.

We call it adult love, because we open up when we think we're safe, but in love, no one is ever really safe. We call it adult love because it involves our heads more than our hearts.

It's an endless walk on a tightrope. Those who walk it, realize that there's no safety net.

That's true for us all.

When love disappears, so does the rope. And the pain is there to meet you.
It rushes up,
the sickening plummet of your stomach as the ground rushes up
rushes
and the pain is there to meet you

Even knowing that, I'd still go.
I'd walk it, for the spotlight, for that warmth, because hell is cold, but love is warm. And it's the warmth that we can't help but reach for.
In love, it's the spotlight that we find ourselves surrounded in. Sometimes you just can't see, because of the spotlight, but just because you can't see doesn't mean you don't trust.

Each step easier than the last.
Head held high,
arms out
slow
steady
Trusting the rope
buying into something more than you
buying into the hope
the hope that the spotlight
will
(might)
will always be there

The spotlight will always hold you
And the drop?
The drop is for other people

While the spotlight holds
well,
I could walk forever.

9 comments:

jerrod said...

Beautifully written.

Philip said...

Fucking brilliant. Excuse my french.
Philip

Rita said...

You captured it perfectly.

Damn, its good to "read" you!

:)rita

etoile said...

This gave me butterflies! Thank you for sharing!

Sharon Longworth said...

Stunning. Just really great writing.

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Dan German said...

love it x

ladytruth said...

It's probably the one drug most of the population in the world's addicted to: love. Whether you're in it or not you sometimes feel damned if you are and mostly damned if you don't. And when you fall flat on your face from losing your balance or worse, your rope snapping, you wish that life really was a bitch so that you could die. But like my father-in-law likes to say: people don't die that easily.