I see you.
Walking beside me,
your hand resting gently on my waist,
guiding me to the inside of the walkway
like the world outside might harm me
and you have already decided it will not.
I see you being protective over me,
not in a way that cages me,
but in a way that makes the ground feel steady
and my shoulders feel lighter.
My friend said to me today,
"I can't wait for the guy who will ground you,
who will make you soft,
who will draw out your most feminine side.
I want you to experience that."
I laughed.
What a dream she had.
If only she knew
that I am ready for that.
I am ready to rest in the presence of someone
without feeling like I have to lead the way.
I am ready to be gentle
without fearing I will be mistaken for weak.
I am ready to place my strength down
like a heavy bag I have been carrying alone
and let someone else carry some of the weight.
I am ready for slow mornings and steady hands.
For love that does not demand I perform to be worthy.
For a voice that speaks softly but stands firm when I waver.
For arms that do not just hold me,
but shield me in the quiet,
when the storms of life come without warning.
I am ready to trust.
To let my walls crack open.
To be seen in my tenderness
and still be safe there.
And maybe, just maybe,
I am ready to let someone love me
the way I have always tried to love others
completely, recklessly, and without apology.
But readiness does not promise arrival.
Sometimes the vision is clear
and the reality never comes.
And so I walk on,
holding space for the day I will no longer have to imagine you.
Breathe.