“If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were.” ~ Unknown
“I want you to be really sure this is what you want.”
With those words, he released me from the strange limbo-land I’ve been walking these past months. With those words, he gave me the permission I could not give myself—to roam.
And freedom never tasted so much like sadness.
Saltwater streams flowing to open seas and opener skies. Never before had the world outside—beyond the gilded cage of love—looked so desolate.
Yet, he unlocked the door, and I must fly.
My wings know what to do, though my heart resists.
You see, he let go, since I could not. He offered me the sovereignty I needed, at the cost of the companionship we both want.
Togetherness is a devastating joy, and sometimes it demands too many concessions. Stability is a tempting ploy; “the way things were” becomes a haunting obsession.
Things will never be the same; we can only trust that they will change in the right way.
When he let go the floor collapsed, but the sky opened. When he let go my heart fell, but my spirit—my spirit claimed power.
He let go, and the saltwater streams ran to the ocean. He let go and the foundations of my future crumbled. He let go, and I broke open. He let go, and I flew.
Remember this: A letting go is an offering, not a theft. When he (or she) lets go, they are opening doors, even if it breaks your heart.
Walk through them.
How to Fly: Letter to a Fractured Being.
Author: Toby Israel
Photos: Used with permission from Paula Barkmeier // Behzad No/Flickr
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