grace

Someone skimmed through the Internet and landed here by using the search words, “my love anna.” When I saw that, I wanted to crawl inside those words and nestle in tight, find the crook of the arm that cradles and covers and protects. I wanted to swim in that sea of comfort and protection, that hazy emotion that feels a bit like a fog and yet the loss of sight is not alarming, it’s soothing, like blinders on a horse.

Do we ever really walk through life like this, protected and comforted? Is there ever a crook of an arm that can pull you into a place where just being feels perfect? Is there ever really a “my love” because we don’t really know each other? We can breathe the same air, touch and rumble, nestle into the same covers, share food from spoons and wine from cups, but what is yours is yours and what is mine is mine. I cannot have you and you cannot have me and I will quite possibly never be “your love, anna.”