As free as the wind
Freedom winds its way around me in the wild wind. It boldly makes its way in the dark and starry nights. It saunters in the moonlight and howls for all those prisoners safe in their homes. There is freedom out there, boys, but it's not here in all this noise. Here, we are slaves and demigods. Out there are heroes and gods.
The trees are free to feel, but they cannot go. They spend their entire lives sucking dirt, holding tight, weathering storms and bugs and blight. Their strength is in staying. I admire them, but I am not like them. My strength is in going. Always going. Always gone. Always somewhere else.
Staring at this night, I can feel it calling me. Staring down this road, I can feel the pull. There is a wildness in me. For the first time in more than 20 years, I am free, utterly free. I have no master. I have no maid. I have no fear and no rules and no reason to stay. I am as free as the wind that blows right by me.
I can love that woman and not have her. I am free to be in love. I can wish her the best but never step foot in her bedroom, never touch her, and never feel her eyes on me. I can't do a thing to make her more perfect. I can't do a thing to be in her life.
I have faith that my love for her is pure. I have faith that I can keep loving her as long as I endure. I have faith that even if she belongs to someone else or if she turns her back on me, I will continue to love her. There's nothing special about me, but there certainly is about the way I feel about her.
I've had failures in my life, but I am not a failure. If my love wasn't enough, it wasn't because I didn't try my best. I've been rejected and hurt in many ways, but I continue to believe that love is possible.
There is freedom is being able to walk away even as you profess your love for someone. It frees them and it frees you. There is no pressure. There is no pain. I am free to love and she is free to love. And we are both free to walk away. There's no desperation here. There's no gasping for air or questions like, "Do you feel the same way?" There's no need for discussion. I've said all that needs to be said: "I love you, and it may not be enough because sometimes love isn't enough. I love you in my very imperfect human way. I'm not asking you to return my love. I love you anyway."
For the first time in my life, I get what love looks like. It doesn't have a human face, and it has a power you can feel. It's real, and I feel blown away just to have it race through my veins. The problem with love is that it needs an object. It needs to be spilled out for someone. It needs to leak from your soul somehow; you just can't contain it. Love must be shared. It has the power to heal. It has the power to change. It's the only perfect thing we can give, and it makes life worth living. Love is impossible to hold in your hand; it must always be shared. It must be free.
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