This time I came crawling back.
Head down, slow approach, looking up shyly for permission.
Respectfully I reach out to touch, I understand the distrust.
For how many times have I run off to taste some other flavor of myself. For how many times have I bounded back. High on promise, loaded with gifts of self discovery, which wilt quick as they’re not the core of me. Which is all that was ever asked of me.
And how then I left again, to find only what was already right here. But I had to, of course. I couldn’t have known.
So I don’t mind the rules that this time must be slow. Sustained. And plus, there is no rush, nowhere else to be.
And if we’re going to reunite, let it be real this time.
Let it last.
My slow crawl back to myself.
Down at the ground, I inspect my steps. What alchemy took me away, take me back. To a toe, a foot, a calf. A leg planted firm, holding down the roots. Of who I always was, and who I will now become.
Slide up, rise and press against the monument of self, of home. I bring new pieces, new gifts I’ve collected, new, steadier promises.
I smile, relieved to be back. I embrace. Essence and experience absorbing into one. The most beautiful of all reunions.