writing

I tend to retreat.

re·treat

/rəˈtrēt/

verb

  1. (of an army) withdraw from enemy forces as a result of their superior power or after a defeat.
  2. move back or withdraw.
  3. withdraw to a quiet or secluded place.
  4. change one's decisions, plans, or attitude, as a result of criticism from others.

I tend to retreat.

but my mind hasn’t changed.

I enjoy full disclosure, raw conversation, getting to the depths. I want to know the truth of it all. What you’re really feeling, where it hurts. The words that struck your gut. What you're most proud of. Sharing your stories with me feels like getting to watch you grow.

But there will come a time where I will retreat. I need bouts of solitude like I need to feel the sun on my face to feel alive. It’s where I go to quite literally rest my head, it’s heavy. Inside I hold all my hurt and yours too. I mourn and rejoice for you as though you are a part of me. 

Perhaps part of feeling so deeply is feeling depleted too. I retreat to recharge. To remember who I am, to renew my restores and my capability for loving you.

On my own, in the dark my senses can relax. I can still and hold space for all that's yet to come. This way when I meet you next I can smile and look you in your eye and we can pick up where we left off.