am i grateful or am i just afraid it will leave me?

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i look at my young, naked body and take in its hues and supple nature.

you better enjoy this while it lasts, my mind tells me.

i begin to imagine the wrinkles and sinking of skin that is to come, given i am blessed with older years to turn into.

of course, i reassure myself

that would be beautiful, too.

i glance around my apartment. an anxiety-filled love permeates my brain. the thought of finally growing a home and eventually having to leave it makes my heart sink for a few beats.

how can i love my room without a timer placed upon it?

how do i gently lean into living my life without fear of losing it? without that tension as the driving force behind my proposed gratuity?

can gratefulness exist with a clear aura? untainted. fresh.

could it be just as it is and not as it is forced to be?

can i love something, someone, without thinking about how i will have to leave it?

how it will have to leave me?

i don’t believe there is a right answer since i assume this to be the bargain of life. in the knowing there will be a sense of enduring. but, hopefully, this enduring can be mended into something less painful, more mild. that is more so reminiscent of a willed blissful acceptance. of something like seeing with your eyes closed. like settling onto a warm couch.

see if you can enter a gratefulness that expands into the direction of this moment. right here. right now. it might take a few seconds to adjust. to throw away the clock.

what is right here that you are missing out on? that is missing the hit of your attention? because it sits too far deep and tucked in the elaborate room of the present moment. let us inspect that room, greatly. touch everything inside of it.

jostle it back to life.

sometimes he touches me and i feel awakened. like the lights inside of my body flutter and race to charge into use. things i never thought i had inside of me.

sometimes i think of myself as an item discarded in that room, waiting and waiting to be touched. waiting to be re-found.

i hover my hand over my other hand and slowly press and slide down my arm, waiting for the lights to turn on.

there wasn’t a moment during it that i wasn’t thinking of the end of it.

which has me wondering,

was i there for any of it at all?