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I am here now, I will not leave you.

via on Oct 20, 2012 | 3 comments

I’m so tired of fighting. I can’t do it anymore.

Oh baby. Lay it all down now. All of it.

You’ve been up all night shadow boxing with demons. Your poet heart is bleeding out on the kitchen floor. You are tired. So very tired. I see your weary body falter. I feel the sudden give of the ground beneath your feet.

I am here now. I will not leave you.

I am empty. I am underwater. I am drowning.

Empty is a deep, dark swimming hole, and you don’t have to stuff your pockets full of rocks to sink. The undertow is powerful. It will take you down, if you let it. But I feel your drowning. Your struggling arms.  Your gasping breath.  I know well the way light and sound filter below the surface. Let that guide you to my outstretched arms. I will swim for you, love. I’ll bring you to shore. Let it go, now. I’ve got this.

Raise those weary eyes. Look at me. I can’t make this easy for you. It’s not going to dissolve. We can’t browbeat it into submission. You will have to stay relentlessly present with all that you have left behind. You cannot outrun your own wild soul.

But I am here now, and I will not leave you.

I am fading away. Slipping into nothing. There are days when I feel as if I do not really exist.

Yes, love. The shadowlands. That long and twisted path that is neither here nor there. You feel your own reality slipping into the ether, becoming no more solid than the shadow you cast when you once stood in the light. In the shadowlands there are howling voices and grasping arms and an endless flatlined forest of tangled and twisted dreams.

But take my hand. Let me be your eyes. I can see beyond the veil of sadness and shame that has led you here, beyond the deep dark of your own hibernation. And there you are, on the other side, moving me speechless with the beautiful way you choose to survive. If you hold my hand and look with the deepest reaches of your heart, you’ll see it too.

And we’ll walk out of here. We’ll start over. Together.

Because I am here now. I will not leave you.

It is too much. Too much. Too much.

It is.  It’s too much. It’s too much for your bruised body and your slaughtered heart. Too much for eyes that have seen too much and boundaries trampled by those too callous to care. Too much for your tender kneecaps and your clenched fists. Too much for hoarse voice and salt-stained cheeks.

But you?  You are exactly enough. In fact, you are more. More than all of it.

You are more than the grief that brings you to your knees. More than the loss that shatters you. More than the love that left. More than the weight of what remains. More than the saving grace of your painfully beautiful past. You are more than you know.

Come outside with me now, under this curtain of stars. Lift your daydream face to the moon, love. See it mirror your own dark craters back to you, brilliant and beautiful. Feel the truth of it on your translucent skin. Breathe that moonlight into every aching cell of your goddess body. Let the moon wash you new.

And look behind you – because even in the darkest night, you still cast the shadow that proves you are here, and solid and real and made of more than you think.

Your shadow, right next to mine. I am here now. I will not leave you, love.

I will not leave you.

 

*****

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 {Stay.}

 

Jeanette LeBlanc
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Jeanette LeBlanc

Jeanette LeBlanc is a writer, photographer and inspirationalist. She regularly consumes ridiculous amounts of dark chocolate, craves the sound of crashing waves and wishes people would stop putting olives on pizza. She has a love affair with words (all of them, especially the bad ones) and is inspired by the intersection of shadows and light. Hopelessly idealistic and impossibly pragmatic, Jeanette fully believes that she will one day earn a very good living with her camera and her writing. In the event that Plan A doesn’t work out, she is willing to settle for a huge lottery win, or the generosity of a very rich benefactor. Either way, she has no intention of being a starving artist. Jeanette lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her delightfully unruly children. Jeanette writes about life, love and beauty and creates inspired design at Peace.Love.Free. Her fine art prints are available for purchase here.
Jeanette LeBlanc

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