I knew a boy who lived in a sea of rolling hills – the town he grew up in like waves far out in the ocean

I was a boat tied to the dock while he swam along the coast freely

 

We simultaneously put each other first and last while expecting harmonious synchronization

Two people forcing their way into a thing they called home even if it felt like a warzone

 

We got stuck between growing up and being grown up because it was the place we knew best

Comfortable in the discomfort of never knowing what might lie ahead but still feeling certain that we’d both be a part of each other’s futures

 

But a person shouldn’t be a Lighthouse

And we were far from perfect

 

Eventually the ocean turned dark and he went away as the tide swirled around my ankles, untying the rope that held me where I thought I’d always be safe

I drifted alone until he was barely a speck on the horizon, waving to me from the safety of warm grass, solid ground, and sunlight like a halo

 

On my own I found my way to a new place where the waves didn’t crash, just sort of swayed back and forth

I found softer hands to hold, and the hills where I used to hide behind went away with the sunset

 

Now my new home actually feels like a home – nothing like the former secluded hideaway I wasn’t allowed to leave until God or somebody forced me out

It’s four walls and a bed to share, toes in the water, and a Lighthouse to lead me in every direction

 

We work now in tandem

Two people creating and discovering together, allowing for both self-identity and someone to trust

 

There are no hills or a need for them – only open sky and a horizon that is always bright

My tomorrow never seeming dim because I have something to bring me home and someone to go home to