Intimacy is a dangerous game of trust and the risk that vulnerability offers. Inevitable loss and possible gain.
I’ve seen the future and it’s paved with these stones.
In a drunken stupor that only encouraged my impulsiveness, I’ve played with my knife in that bar’s bathroom, only for it to get stuck in my wrist, just missing the tendon and anything vital by a hair.
Bleeding all the way home like a stuck pig, I put a band-aid on it and went to sleep.
I’ve been homeless five times before I turned 20, mostly in my younger years, but I’ve never witnessed something so daunting as the immense love of someone who could harm as much as they heal.
Yet the only way to receive the sunlight is to expose yourself to it, and this is the game I play.
This being the only thing that has scared me, I now recognize that an act of heroism is an act of love, bravery, and commitment to the deed. Not sabotaging or playing the victim before I could become the victim.
Challenge proposed, and challenge accepted.