green light

t w e l v e

i assumed there was only room

for my dreams in my dreams

t w e l v e

You look better, he had said, just a few days back in the old cafe.

And he is right. When I look in the mirror, I don't see a decaying girl anymore. I see glossy hair and bright eyes, no longer a hollow imitation of myself and yet not yet fully who I was - but I'm getting there.

I didn't know I was drowning, till I realised that in becoming Aaron's anchor I had submerged myself to the bottom of the sea. And I was not made for seabeds and oceans, I was made for clouds and stars.

But surely it is possible to love without drowning. To hold without sinking into the touch, to support without becoming a crutch.

Aaron smiles at me, the green of his eyes full of the life that I had been so drawn to.

Ready? he asks, offering his arm as we approach the venue for Tristan Mallory's concert.

And I can see it so clearly now, the collars we all fight against and the crowns we strive toward. And perhaps this will be a constant battle, a constant war between crowns and collars, between goals and setbacks, between good days and bad days.

But I owe it to myself, to the people in my head and the stories I want to tell, to fight.

I take Aaron's arm. Let's go.  

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