The art in you...

You told me once about a project you’d worked on, designing, writing, putting your heart to the page, in much the same way, I imagine, as what I do here. As you told me about it, I saw the fire in your eyes, the joy of creation, of putting yourself into the world, inviting it in to see the parts of yourself that you laid bare to be seen and explored. Then…the light dimmed. You told me that, despite having resonated with some, that those in your life, the ones whom you wanted most to read it, hadn’t. I suppose you could see the sadness reflected in my eyes, because you smiled through your own tears and told me that you knew I would have wanted to read it, would have read it. 

And I would have. I will. I want to read your words, see your photos, your painting, whatever art that shines or whispers from your heart and soul, I want to experience, so that I can know you, understand you, just a little more clearly. I want you to be my muse, my reader, my collaborator, and I want to be yours, in turn, because anything that fosters that light in your soul, I will do, because it is beautiful. We are writing together a new story of our love, but, as you said that night, we are also writing new chapters of our own stories, as well. And I want this one, for both of us, to be full of art, love, connection, exploration, and all the wonderful, glorious things that come from having the safety and support of someone who sees you true. I see you, my sweet love, and I love you, every bit of you. I will be right here, now and always.