You are not here to make me safe. You are here to make me real .
So here is my gift to you today—my edge. The place where I want to close off, blame, or run. Instead, I breathe into it. I offer you my fear of not being enough. Not for you to fix, but to witness. In your gaze, my weakness becomes a door. You are not my other half. You are my mirror and my fire. dear lover deida
May we practice freedom in intimacy. May we hold nothing back—not our rage, not our ecstasy, not our longing. And when we fail, may we begin again, softer and more fierce. You are not here to make me safe
We are not merging into one. We are dancing as two poles, creating lightning between us. Let’s stop asking, “Are you happy with me?” Instead, let’s ask: “Are you growing more real with me?” The place where I want to close off, blame, or run