The Well

You once told me, “Now I understand. I finally know what it all means.”

As though I was merely a conduit.

A piece to thrust you into your life.

You were missing the point.

We are not steppingstones.

We are not meant to break off, but rather to become one thing.

You are daunted by the reality of this experience because you don’t know what to do with this weight, this weight that feels like home.

The answer is to stop running.

Lean into the fear of depth.

Intricacy is not a chink in your armor. You don’t cease to be a strong and kindhearted soul simply because you have realized a piece of your dimension.

You were right. I was a sounding board to jump off of into your life, but I am this over and over and over again. I am here for you as you are here for me, as they are here for us, as we are here for them.

This is not a punishment or a temptation.

It’s a lifeline adding layers and dimensions to the capacity of our mind.

I wish you would let go.

I wish you would let me come back to my well.

Use me, as I’ll use you.

We are not meant to sustain over years of exposure.

We are made as opposing mirrors to siphon inspiration.

A muse to create.

I need this part of my soul to create.

My creation is dependent upon this feeling. My creation is dependent upon my ability to remember those lives. You establish a portal that I reach into and access past knowledge.

I remember running. Seeking out a way to fill the void. I went searching in empty things. Becoming endlessly frustrated that I continued to come up with nothing.

I remember the moment I realized I was searching for you in others.

The visceral realization that I just needed the ability to dip back in. Not to stay. Not to drain, but to remember. Not disturbing the waters.

The game is ours.

We created the game to experience these feelings. If they were not purposeful. If they were not useful, we would not feel them. So, pay attention.

Spend the time cultivating.

It is not a singularity. It is not sin. It is purposeful, and I am asking permission to have access to the well.

I wonder how long the we can sustain the process. I feel as though my well could never empty for you. It is endless as I am endless.