a stitch in the side

Something, something
You think you got something
Something to show
For all that hellbent letting go


and come hell or high water she said, don’t forget what it means to hang on to all that is good and real, and

remember that it might look like ripping and dropping and not watching the fall because you are already too far away to see

(keep running)


All or nothing now

Sweet wild road ahead
Sweet wild road ahead
If I lied and said that all was well
I might as well be dead

-The Wailin’ Jennys

I’ve never cried so hard as I did the Thursday after I said yes.

I understand now that saying yes to life together, to sweet love, to forever love, to no-one-but-you love
is also
saying yes to life always together, to hard times, to hanging-on love, to only-you-can-ever-hurt-me-like-that love.

Somewhere else in this big world, another woman is sitting at her kitchen table with a wine glass full of water because she feels slightly guilty for the half bottle of Pinot Grigio that she drank last night. She’s also attempting to read her Torts assignment but instead she follows her thoughts into the nebulous future. Maybe she’s also in love with “the one,” who colors her life with his brown-green eyes and fills up space she didn’t know existed with his big shoulders and musician’s hands.

She’s probably also wishing that she could just pour out all the tears he’s ever made her cry onto his hurts and ragged edges to help them heal.  What she always wanted and what she thought she always wanted might not be the same. The equation is hard to solve. My faraway twin is probably feeling faintly dramatic as well, because it’s easy to feel ridiculous on this side of the cycle but reasonable to feel both ferocious and wistful on the dark side. She probably also chooses reality over a princess fairy tale, but bruises over the decision, and her eyes are bright with unexpected tears at inconvenient times when she is reminded of it.

I wonder if she ever finished that Torts assignment after all. I don’t know what she does in the end.

All I know is that I choose him.

At the end of the day, I would rather come home to my love than to an empty princess fantasy or to anyone else.

I choose to believe that the ragged edges and the dark places and the wounds aren’t indelible and that both of us can leave our baggage at the foot of the cross forever. I choose to believe that Light and Love are irresistible. I choose a life of deep breaths, real smiles, confident strides, clear eyes, fearless kissing, loving honesty, and abiding trust … and I embrace all of the work and tears this life requires.

I choose to run straight for an abundant life because Jesus already broke himself open for me to have it, and He knows the “only-you-can-ever-hurt-me-like-that” kind of love in ways that I never will.

I choose reality and my artist-lumberjack best friend and the “sweet wild road” with him. It’s the adventure I’ve always wanted. I still have torts reading and I still have bruises but this is what I want.

Looking ahead but just a little scared
To keep all eyes on the road…

Can it be real
Will it be some good thing
Weathering the fortunes
What those stars are gonna bring
Will it stay true
Will we both see the whole thing true
You say come on baby let’s go ahead and live


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