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On My way

"Thoughts on my way to my love's cabin"
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The road to your cabin is rutted, with sides that are just sheer enough that I have a recurring daydream about slipping off a hazy edge into the trees on a future icy night. I sometimes wonder whether the jagged branches would impale me or just stop the car from tumbling into the endless darkness and how long it would take for someone to find me if it happened. The thought of it, the manufactured danger, is enough that I grip the steering wheel a bit more solidly and pay attention to my surroundings even though I'm excited to get to you.

Going to see you -- it's like transcending into another dimension. At the start of the ride, I'm a conglomeration of a bunch of roles. Mom. Employee. Activist. Each day, I play these characters, who only show a glimpse of what I think of as my true self. It's not that I'm being inauthentic in any way, of course, there are just boundaries within the definitions.

As I drive, I feel the camouflage fade away and I relax into myself. It's so unbelievably easy to be with you. Once I get to the bumpy driveway, I feel almost reborn. I close and secure the last gate and as I ascend the last knoll, I see the tiny cabin in the stippled sunlight, already fading into night.

It feels surreal, the cabin and you, and sometimes I wonder if I'm dreaming it all. But, it's so crisp and clear and the curtains are drawn. Then I see you. You are there waiting for me. And before I know it, I'm in your arms and time fades away into a blur of breath, candlelight, and hidden hearts. It's odd how time feels depending on what you are doing and who you are with. The time I spend with you - it's like being shot from a cannon, pausing in the clouds, and tumbling back to earth.

I used to believe that the phrase, "You complete me," was overly romantic and technically inaccurate. I am whole and you are whole. I feel that's true. And, of course, we are part of each other along with every other thing in the universe. Timeless life.

That's true as well, but I have to admit though, sometimes "us" feels more like "me" than myself (if that makes sense). Paraphrasing a bit from Alan Watts, "we" are a bit like a song. The notes and the space between the notes are separate entities and amazing in their own rights. But, together, they are something entirely unique and different.

I feel like that's us. I imagine that the world can feel it like I can; a shining bubble of warmth, radiating love from a tiny cabin on the most beautiful mountaintop in the world.

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