He Exhaled Unjustified Rage

His mere existence held the heaviest bits of flesh and marrow from memories that have now turned to dust on the floor of what was once believed to be home. What felt concrete was now unsteady. Our love was easily influenced by the selfish need to prove to the outside world that we existed as something we were, in sobering fact, not.

He bred unbridled madness and I was naively effervescent. He worshipped addictions and envy, and my only vices were room temp sparkling water and arduous words while the world slept peacefully. I gave the moon a private show each night, tears and tense questions, and then basked in the palpable heat of a thousand sunrises on mornings made new. He simply exhaled an unjustified rage.

He once dared to say he was the type of man who never wanted my guard down only to get close to my soul. He gave the illusion of the safeguard. The stronghold. The one who works to earn the gate code where damning secrets reside. The come-full-circle man.

He called me his lioness and him - the one with stirred mountain blood. Words dripped freely from his lips like the most decadent amber honey and music poured from his fingertips much like the untamed ebb and flow of an Ireland tide. He taught me that when roots are torn from the earth – dense, rich soil is all that’s left. It’s cool to the touch and energizing to your entire being. You can feel its desire to take on new seed and give it life.

I only think of him in times when growth seems so fragile yet tangible. When the warmth of the soil falls away and you’re left with aerated goodness.

Sometimes the soul needs to be de-rooted. It comes with hard questions, unsettling answers, and possibilities full of devout hope.

And so, I took those words and applied them where they counted most in my life – though they came from someone I sent back into the wild.

I now press my toes down deep into the rich soil – close my eyes – and cast a line of hope. Because though someone no longer belongs in our narrative, we can still take with us the lessons they chose to unknowingly share in the greatest moments of vulnerability.

Press into the dirt.

Cast the line.

Grab hope.

Hold the lessons.

But release false lovers back into the wild.