Last night I finally dreamt in your language. Now I understand the symbology you talked about; I have a definition in my own words.
I’m trying not to be scared and I don’t know if holding back is for the better or if sensibility is just my scapegoat for closing myself off.
I only wanted you to trust in love but through you, I’ve seen that maybe I’m the one who isn’t trusting enough. It’s not the pain or shame that I’m worried about so much; it’s more that I’m scared of missing an opportunity for enlightenment. For either of us.
For all of my past impatience at others’ needs to feel like they were actively ‘engineering’ their lives, I could definitely learn to lose the facade of control a lot more.
I need to trust in you. And in that, I need to trust in myself - to go against gut instincts, to self-sabotage, to throw myself to the wind and find what remains. I’m almost ready to open the door to you :)

Sometimes I feel like just even writing is too overt. Every word is so stark; so English. Sometimes I just wish a long stream of vowels and syllables, or dots and dashes would suffice. Words become too intellectual and distracting. Irrelevant, even.
When I find a way to speak as powerful as holding hands, I’ll be able to finally start praying.

Reflecting on being made of the same atoms that made other Earthly materials and beings before me and will in future, I was told of a wonderful summary of this concept - we are completely permeable entities that pass through the Earth and have the Earth pass through us (wonderfully paraphrased by George Harrison in “Within You Without You”).

It’s one thing to understand that we consciously and unconsciously use resources to fuel our existence and optimise our functionality (in all senses) but to also appreciate how directly our surroundings and choices of energy that we consume; as food, emotional provocation, and intellectual stimulants; feels as oddly startling but natural and common-sense as seeing human organs in the flesh might be - something seldom experienced but explicitly understood theoretically and widely acknowledged.

Now comes the cute 24-year-old extrapolation of this understanding applied my beliefs in love and religion:

To believe that I could ever love someone so well, so much better than anyone else could, contradicts all of my beliefs. To be human is to accept the possibility of being on-par with other humans - not only in being just as skilled in triggering similar reactions in other people and by other people, but also possessing equally flawed abilities and weaknesses - removing any preconceptions of having any assumed priority in anyone’s lives.
I’d found myself attracted of late to the ‘purposeful flaw’: the practise of actively creating flaws in work so as to not slight God - believing that nothing is perfect except God, and to strive for perfection would be sinfully prideful. In this teaching, I drew parallels with my prideful belief that I could love more than others and love better than others.
We all consist of shared, constantly travelling atoms and maybe I should use more intrapolation in the formation of my constant lessons from and of the world - in that not only is there a possibility of an external parallel time and/or space, but also that I live in part through atoms that previously passed through me which now reside in other beings, equally (to some extent) influencing people who I at first thought weren’t in my realm of being able to influence.

I love you still and always, through, and just as equally as, the love of every other person who you love. My love passes through, and extends to, all humanity and is unconditional for better or worse.

A couple of interesting related links:

http://ask.metafilter.com/153306/Who-marks-up-their-art-on-purpose

http://www.christianforums.com/t7544974/

Love, happy love that feels right and makes you feel free; love that makes you want to run and scream and do everything and tell everyone - that’s not pure love. That’s power. I feel powerful armed with the knowledge of unbiased love given up to me by others. That life-strength, the faith from which I feel love doesn’t feel like anything more than euphoric power.

My understanding is that real love, total love, is love that defeats you. A love that reaps your strength and strips your faith. Love that isn’t free or kind or empowering but degrading; addictive; engulfing. It’s love that you no longer choose to live by but love that grips you at any given moment and suffocates you. Crushes you. It’s the feeling of wholehearted sacrifice - a blessed opportunity to find ourselves on the precipice of finding spiritual adversity (in which that we may finally understand our true basal nature).

Honest love means not freedom from your beliefs of your shortcomings but freedom from the choice of believing in your shortcomings, when all aspects of ourselves are self-acknowledged and accepted.

Love gives us the humility to understand and accept our mere humanity and engage in our understanding of being human on a deeper level by demonstrating the transient nature of our universe.

Love is my compass; I devote myself to blindly follow wherever it leads irrelevant of my moral values. May I never shy from its path of enlightenment in false hope of self-preservation or preservation of others.
If love calls to act against humanity, love give me humility to be a pure messenger of its will.

Scrappy disjointed notes-to-self on faith and certainty:

How are other people going to bring us closer to God? At the least, we can hope on the possibility of the existence of parallel lifespans of spaces in time. We are drawn to any and all devices of tangible reassurance as analytical and naturally questioning beings, but investing our love in an inanimate or intangible thing free of the assistance or involvement of another person is the most balancing and life-giving human relationship. No human is capable of infallible eternal perfection or extending and expressing enough constant grace to pardon the innate human tendencies that clash against our cultural expectations. An everlasting, beneficial, healthy union between two people to me seems like a scam.
What we truly yearn for isn’t company or vice. Yearning is a symptom of malpractice of our personal principle values through laziness, or weakness and temptation. Spiritual development becomes a possibility when one’s principle values are identified and actively, regularly worked towards.
True happiness is inner peace.
i.e.
Practise mindfulness/clarity
Practise dignity/respect
Practise certainty alongside faith
Practise strength
Practise compassion
Practise honesty and expression

There are elements, experiences, in our lives that we do not wish to be transient.
We fence in these things by finding boundaries by which to define them, and thus create the illusion of an immovable monument.
We are intolerant of understanding that each atom in our universe has the possibility to move freely, irrespective of our influence, potentially destroying the fences we build that we believe will contribute to maintaining a physical state in ourselves of optimum emotional health.
If the goal is to strive for optimum emotional health, my belief is that all that is considered to be treasured and sacred must be left behind in its respective place and vulnerable to ruin, or else actively decimated.

All beauty must die.

I am honey, chiffon,
And warm sea water

I am sweet and familiar
Homely, like you want

I am so close to you
I am so close to what you are made of

Listen to me.
I am all honey
Chiffon
Warm sea water.

Warm, non-weather;
Feeding trough of old ideas
Soundly empty of heart, of touch;
God’s given grace to read my life
With a bovine nod and downward stare.

Pronged hands folding through dust
Picking, turning, searching
Eyes waiting to receive a light,
A darkness
A familiar sign of despair

Ground of beauty
Freed from choice
My home is shadows and heat, and dirt.

A body outside of myself that I could touch; a way to physically express my happiness and reflect and bask in my warmth through your flesh. A body that I could pinch and preen without bringing meaning into the act itself; except only to revel in the blissfully simple beauty of not causing a reaction. To be able to search for your eyes as we would lay beside each other and only find unspoken understanding that this is how we are; this is not the beginning of something or a request or a statement but - my nerve endings endlessly receiving, in heaven, in stasis, in the middle of an eternal statement. Your life in my life as it was and how it will always be right now. Your face on my pillow a dull exclamation mark on a point in my existence. Your indifference is my bliss.

You work in a little dry cleaning shop.

When I first saw you, I felt like our eyes met but maybe you were looking through me.
Now I’m almost too shy to look through your glass on the days I walk past; hungry eyes tracing your smile, searching for threads to fabricate my story of you; staring like a sexless, sad stranger.
You look too kind to understand the way I want to talk to you.
I fantasise that a good man like you is already married; true and faithful to the covenants you have given yourself to and already fulfilling my dreams of your life being enriching and humbling.

Yours alone is the imagined wisdom that I seek to drink from; you alone can teach me how to accept my Godless family and release my constraints on my strangled love.

What better place than here?

What better time than now?

I miss you now more than ever. I wish everything that had happened hadn’t. In a way I don’t regret my actions but…it’s sad that this is the way that things had to happen. I should have seen it coming. In fact, I’m certain you already did. For all my moral posturing and mature tut-tutting, I feel more helpless and childish than I have in these entire past two years.

You’re not even a part of my life. I wish I could stop thinking about you.

You will.

You’ll start smiling without noticing - your face will embrace it; your eyes will shine it.

You’ll go to sleep at night cherishing your own warmth. Your own satisfaction.

You won’t even want, for anything - for anyone. Every interaction will feel like a blessing.

Your heart will be not only a haven but a beacon; bold enough to find others and strong enough to enlighten them.

Your love and light will reach out to every being; every surface and every corner and crevice - and you’ll know that indeed you haven’t waited too long to arrive. You hadn’t waited long at all.

There will be an unbreakable golden palm in your heart; an outstretched hand of beauty and knowledge that cannot be removed by any doing. In times of weakness and poverty of both soul and body, know that your light will keep shining for yourself and those surrounding - without toil or sacrifice. As constant as your heart beats, and the Earth rotates, so too will your beauty show itself.

I want my own hands around my waist;
My own lips against my face
My own eyes to watch me sleep
And beg to be a part of me.

I don’t want to love anyone for the rest of my life.