So sacrifice yourself and let me have what's left.
Lyrical cautions or simple cravish plea? Does it matter anymore?
No, does it, really?
Does it matter that I'm OUT THERE standing on the ice at 6 a.m. with him while he skates circles around me spraying me with snow from his plow stops and making me flinch every time he slams his stick down? Does it matter how I feel, does it matter if I want to be the selfish princess taking some much needed time just to stop the fucking world from moving and I can't help it if it won't? Does it matter how much he holds my hand, squeezing it so hard I grit my back teeth without realizing it. He reminds me to breathe, to not worry and to stop eating. He laughs over the last one.
It's absurd.
He isn't in charge. He needs me as much as I need him, except for the fact that we swear we don't need each other. He isn't interested in fixing things, surpassing greatness or in happily ever after, he is adamant that we should just blow off some steam in each other's arms and then things won't feel so bad. Then he laughs again, disqualifying his own words as a joke, thinking I won't see his nervousness, his deep desires, so entrenched now he is too vulnerable for castigation on my part. I wouldn't hurt him anyway but maybe I am without fully realizing it.
He is vulnerable and tenuous. He's been to his edge and come back running. He lives a different life from the rest of every human being, a carefree, adolescent existence of spontaneity and mistakes and fresh chances and thin remorse that make me envious. He is so far left of perfect he has an open charm that reads flawed and yet no one finds it off-putting in the least.
Maybe it's a lift, being with someone on an equal plane of imperfect.
Maybe it makes us perfect for each other.
Maybe he just wants to be everything Jacob wasn't and nothing like Jacob was.
That's good. Being unguarded is a breath of fresh air and not even remotely akin to the weakness I expected. Just a naked, tender truth of who we are, what we are. Human. Bent. Ugly sometimes, sometimes, not.
I've figured some things out and come out intact on the other side, slightly warped maybe. I can't keep waiting to get over Jacob, get over myself, I am learning to live with it instead. Live around it and through it and in spite of it. With help. With so much help I am drowning in good intentions, saved by grace, humbled by love.
I'm also learning that I can't replace him. I couldn't if I tried. And I no longer want to, having set myself up for failure so easily in the past I have it down to a mindless routine. There is room for Jacob to stay here as part of me.
I can do this.
I can let my heart grow back. It's like planting a seed, right? Take a little piece and bury it somewhere safe and give it plenty of love, how can it not grow? How can I not live life to the fullest while I have it laid out in front of me? It's a gift and I'm wasting it sitting in the dark.
