My longing of late has been for another. I can tell by where my thoughts turn in the restless spaces and by who comes to mind. Yes, I want another with me, though I know I'd likely be a disappointment in a relationship right now. Hell, I'd suck at even initiating a relationship now. If I sense I'm not wanted—a sense that can be born of my insecurity as easily as of reality—I'll back away and stay at a distance. Thinking back, I've got my reasons for responding that way, screwed up as they are.
And I'd suck at being with someone, at communicating well, at listening and connecting, at being able to explain who I am and what's inside in a way that could make any sense. All I want is to skip all that and just be with someone who gets me, and who can accept what they can't get with a security and peace that can only be found through love. No games, no agendas. Just be.
Not tonight, I'm afraid. But it helps to know what I want, even if I never have it. It helps the longing be what it is, and starts to clear the brush away for what else it might point to. The heart reveals itself a layer at a time, and one longing often reveals another beneath. Desperation makes me reach for the nearest counterfeit to make the longing go away, but there is no peace in that.
It's not the kind of love I talk about much, because most of the time I just feel disappointment when I do. Tonight, though, I'm letting that longing be a companion over tea rather than being overwhelmed in sadness or anger or all the ways I flee. It's not going to kill me to long for something beautiful, and I don't have to settle for anything less.