One: The Edge

             A dreamer offered only cold turkey. Sleep, extending its vacation, stays inaccessible to me. An already fragile framework collapsing like a house of cards. I find myself free-falling at record speed, coming to but already awake. Claustrophobic in a cavern now crumbling at something as slight as a full breath. Chemical reactions in partnership with the circumstances I find myself in are partly to blame. Too shallow they wade to be the only two culprits.

With a warning, those influences I set free for I know this weight on my chest runs far deeper. Self-reflection, at times an utter paradise, though more often than not, a turbulently emotional and touchy place to be. Here and now, my unrecognizable reflection has given spotlight to a broken puzzle of ill-fitting qualities, labels and attributes leeching to my identity, bestowed upon me by the outside. With great passivity, I have blindly embraced them. 

Dissociating, I humbly gain sight on the impact I have on my social circles, continuously overlapping. Dressed in layers upon layers of faulty armour so I can provide these beautiful souls with no less than what they’ve come to enjoy and expect of me. Exhausting my life force with the pressure to remain a source of light - pleasant and positive. Fully deserving as these receivers are, I have begun suffocating under my own limitations. Fingers point to aging, abandoned by slumber, away at sea. How quickly intention loses traction, frustrating until I’m frostbitten.

Pen in hand, paper to keyboard. A journey long overdue, kick started by a method so new. A spiraling cycle of thoughts, deviously daunting. The desperation hungry for solid ground, a foundation lost. Deep below the over-fluffed surface, I succumb to the tremors of pent up and abandoned emotions. Hidden away, cooking under pressure, they now start to boil over. The big one. Uprooted, I find myself out of my own control, for better or for worse. 

This life force has always stemmed from my inner child. I now find him orphaned, expected to grow up, to fit into a system that I’ve never fully understood nor want to be streamlined with. On the flip side, championing my alienhood on this refined rock is arduous. Solo I drift on my own plane of existence, longing for love and connection. To embrace this earthly form and be seen for who I really am. Who is that exactly? Mere words, artistic expression, not even a life-long psychological deep dive could ever pin that elusive tail on my ass. Perspective is the key, but redirecting the compass of the skull ain’t all that easy. 

Recently and increasingly I have been feeling very misunderstood, aching to be seen, heard, held. My organic nature has been neglected far too long. I hold back releasing this self unto the world out of fear of breaking the bonds of meaning and security I’ve woven into my web. Over the years, friends and co-produced experiences have completely reshaped the world I live in. I carry so much love for these people and memories, I come undone. I stay seated shotgun so I head in the same direction as these soulmates. The way of a social chameleon has quite the reach, but time after time I look in the mirror further engrossed in a disguise. 

This misguided heart of mine takes me places seemingly impossible to navigate out of. My inner firefly glows in search of my own kind. I’ve been won over, infatuated with my chosen family. 

With a flick of the wrist my microscope zooms. I am overcome with gratitude for the tribe that has embraced my vibe. My awe-inspiring angels. Destiny embodied. Still, I find unwritten boundaries and rules calcified in the dynamics of friendship to be disheartening. To an extent I see these confines as a natural state of balance.  Perhaps to some it is ultimately for the best. Goldilocks slipping into a bed oh-so right. The struggle to settle is too tight a fit for some like me who are propelled by intrigue. I wear the title of ‘friend’ proudly, don’t get me wrong, but the tides of sand create unstable grounds beneath this soulship of mine.

It takes shape in my physical form. Physicality being my language of love. A pattern emerges - my native language becoming indecipherable to those my story has been written for. Meaning is lost in translation. Butter my butt and call me a biscuit. 

Onto you… you who've come before and you, right here, right now. You’ve seen my cover, hard and paperback, and assume my genre, but fall asleep to my story. Rereleased, I evolve into a choose your own adventure, catered to you. You scroll past, back to your predictable viewing habits. Add me to your list, pick me off the shelf already. Caffeinate and read me, I could be the ride of your life. Worlds apart we may seem but I still feel the draw of our collision course, destined long before we ever knew of each other.

My most powerful vehicle of expression is genuine intimacy, sexual and beyond. It’s the path through which I share my highest vibration. Alas, it cannot and should not set course without a willing co-captain. An invisible border patrolled by the unnamed. Please I pray, don’t let this be a dead end street I’m hitch-hiking down. I remain hopeful, perhaps to the point of toxicity, but how can such a dizzying desire only exist in one half of this whole we created together? Yin, come yang. My eraser is locked and loaded, ready to wipe away the S drawn between us.

I have been longing to get to know you and your vessel better. To make it feel the pleasure and ease it deserves. To feel the life flowing beneath your skin. To climb that tower of a mind. To enlighten your timid yet mighty heart. Fantasy aside, you're clear as day, you and your withholding. Often I tell you, though it’s never enough, I love you. I’m not going anywhere unless you need me to. I only want us closer, but never at the cost of your comfort. I’ll continue to shoulder my own discomfort, bear it as best I can, should that be what you need. 

Here lies my hurdle, crippled by the anxiety that’s opened shop in me, unable to rip the band-aid off and tell you. Washed ashore, this is my long lost love letter, only it’s been returned to sender. How do I express this yearning for a warmth uniquely you without seeming selfish? Our mental and physical needs are only a stream apart. Silly little side remarks don’t hold the flame my intention carries. The laughter cornered in the recesses of my mind, not sure what to do or where to go. 

Here we are. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll read this and gain an understanding of what I’m reaching at. Our confidence-boosting crutches have helped seal our bond, but it’s also limited our potential in learning to swim in the deep end. Gazing across from shallower waters, the depths seem rough and uncertain, full of presumption. I’ve learned to swim there before and boy, let me tell you, it’s exhilarating. I get it's no measly step, but these waters are free of predators should you want to dip your toes in.

I can’t say why your body of water calls me. It would be so much easier if I were deaf to it. There’s no way in or out, not without you. Even now, a waterfront of tiny broken shells, I would not cut you. Instead I bleed in sacrifice for you, for what we have, wounded by the blade of what-if. Swim with me or surrender me from your sanity.

Gravity keeps one foot grounded, my other in flight. Grand delusions breaking free from orbit. In your shoes it may seem a concept so out of left field, you share no such curiosity. Be that as it may, I refuse to accept a closed ending. If I could, navigating this overgrowth would be a hell of a lot less prickly. Something draws me to you. You’re always there for me. I ache to handle your texture, map your history, and find those sweet and salty spots. I want to hold you. Nuzzle into me. Lay your head on my chest. Can I kiss you? Plant one with the power I repress and itch to release? Your touch has the power to unlock utopia.

I see you. The question remains if you truly see me. Can you? I toss and turn, waiting for you to acknowledge these burning feelings have merit. With edited ease I unload this longing in writing, but I’m still so scared. Unfasten this hold you have on me, or pull me closer. Hear my cry. I have not the courage to vocalize this vulnerability to you, yet. If and when you feel ready to explore the interconnecting currents, I’m here. I’ll be the best friend I can be through the ups and the downs. You’re so much more than a snack. You’re water, essential and so much a part of me. I will keep my glass full of you, so long as you allow me. Come through, consider colouring outside the lines. I can beam you into my spaceship, we could soar through space and time.

Time goes on.

My thinning ice cracks, departing from shore. As I tread the murky waters of this new low tide, I see the disconnect like a flash before me. Beyond my form, I’m totalled. Such wreckage does not allure comfort or companionship. Undesirable in the undertow. Pulled from under, out into the great blue, the twinkling lights of the city I’ve built around me fade from view. Should I drown, I wish you well, now free of my weight, my tears swallowed by the ocean. I go under. I see your face one last time in the dancing moon. A final view of you, and so plays the softest song. If I’m to wake again, I hope your image greets me in the face of the sun. Sleep well, my friend.