Real

It’s Five Minute Friday with The Gypsy Mama again… Time to write for the love of it, without the second glances and over-editing that we all do.

 

We need real. We need depth and purity and hard stuff and honesty. We need openness and no-makeup faces, and hands that hold the broken. We need tears to cry and someone to catch them, the arms of that dear one who knows you so well.

Who is it for you? There are places when I am most real. No, I don’t have trouble with the heart-on-my-sleeve deal, but sometimes it’s the vulnerable that get the most hurt, and then who do you turn to? Only the trusted. Only the ones who take it all. Everything you have to offer.

And we crave real. We don’t always know it, but then it pours like a floodgate whether we like it or not. Oh the  riches of the waterfalls that flow. Were not they healing streams? I believe that those beautiful moments, they are the defining ones. Who are we to the everyday person, who are we to our closest ones? Are we different? Or do we align?

Because these hearts need to start beating outside our chests. We need the rhythm of each other to identify ourselves. So what do we do when everyone stops beating and we can’t find our pulse? It can’t be good.

I want to break the bonds that so bind me. That even I, so naturally open, would chase away the hidden parts, the insecurities, the brokenness. And speak so openly so healing can start. So these bones that are dry and scorched and weary sometimes, can find life again.

Oh, thank you, my people. The ones who take me. Who get me. Who welcome me. You are few and you are fair and I would be nothing if your shoulders were not beside me.

You know who you are. You are the real ones to me.

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