All this longing

Grief unexpressed turns to anger

The truth, kept hidden, boils up inside and catapults outwards towards your loved ones

The chaos inside, kept locked up, inevitably does damage to oneself

So much water, so much activity, but all kept bottled up inside, boiling boiling boiling, like a pressure cooker.  Where does all that steam go? All that energy? If it has no place to go?

On to the paper

Into that video

Through the channel of your teachings

To the loved one in front of you

To be vulnerable is to be true.  To be true is to be vulnerable.  Both are risky.  Both are scary.  

The longing is to have another who sees me and all my waters, and who loves it all so that I may not feel scared again.  So that it has a place to go.  So that I may feel loved, and understood, and seen, and… WANTED

All this longing to love and be loved with no place to go.