Where the Wild Bees Swarm

Here are a few secrets that I have been keeping.

I want something, bigger… greater… deeper, darker, longer… sweet and salty, hard and brilliant. I want something that fills me with its silent tide, simple and primal as the counting out of days. I want something that is both a risk and a known.

I want a house filled with memories that I made with you.

I want a photo album brimming with smiling faces and varied stories. A labyrinth of adventure, from that weekend stolen in October amongst the leaves to the grand trip overseas.

I want years. Not months.

I want to know when I come home, it is home. Home being built not just in timber, but in sweat and compromise. In love and conflict. A home built on shared principles. And mostly, on laughter.

I want friends. Many friends. And a dinner table to hold them.

I want to know you as well as I know myself. Know how your eyes look under many different skies… or how you handle the reality of our lives.

I want firsts. Lasts. I want to know I can lean on you and you will stand up tall.

I want to be proud of myself. Of you. Of what it stands for, having come down that long road.

I want this feeling to go away. The one that makes me doubt that all of this is possible. That I don’t feel fortunate enough to find this sort of fulfillment, that perhaps there must be more hills to climb over… rivers to traverse.

I don’t know if it’s you. I want this to be. And honestly… I am not sure if I can stand the disappointment if it’s not.

This all takes time, I know. But can you feel it? My pulling into myself. My closure. It will pass. I hope. Don’t react by shutting me out. I am not sure if any of it will come to fruition. It’s so much, too much, to ask for at this time. (Hell, I have NOT lost my mind.) But be patient. I just can’t tell you these things yet. I still want my secrets.

For right now… I just need you.



G.