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