Eleeo. The greek word for the gift of mercy.
It means to be patient and compassionate toward those who are suffering or afflicted.
But sometimes I feel that you are neither; rather that you are lost. Searching for something or someone, but you have yet to find yourself. I am too much. I am not enough.
I have grown a cosmos for you inside of my own body. I have filled your ears with laughter. Sweet words that drip like honey from my lips. I have never feared to let you shine. Lighting the candle for you in the darkest of nights. I have embraced you with hugs. Gazed upon your face with loving eyes, a tender maze I traced among your contours and curves. I have fed you, cooked decadence and danced with grace in my steps to excite you. Loved you with every fiber, every cell, every muscle, every molecule that makes up my vibrating existence of light.
I am too much.
I have seen you ache for acceptance in a world that denies your desires. Watched as you begged for love in the streets. I have heard you slash away at your self. A tongue lashing with self hatred. I have listened to your thoughts, alone and isolated. Hearing a depressed heart scream out into the echoing shadows. I have received your silence, your rejection, your want, your need. Cold, and biting each touch felt to my fiery existence.
I have wept in pain for you and by you. I am not enough.
I preach self care. The cutting out of toxic friends and people. The excision of negative influences. The exploration for things that make people smile, and their hearts dance to the beats of their own rhythm.
I preach letting go. Releasing old people and things. Severing the cord that has tied me to weighted individuals. Recognizing when someone isn’t putting up the same chips that I am, and choosing to leave the table while ahead.
Yet with you I am a paradox. I let you steal from my jar of light without consequence, most times. I let you snatch me right before I make too many steps away from you. I crash into you as your darkness slingshots me back down from heavenly ground. I do it over, and over, and over. I have yet to reach an answer of how to still my beating heart, and stop myself from reaching for you.
Because I can’t quit you.
Because you have called me in times of distress. Because your soul weeps louder than you speak. Because loving you is hard, but hating you hurts. Because I fear for you. Because I want you to see yourself how I see you. Because I want you to love me too. Because I want you to exist. Because I need you more than you know. Because I’m afraid of feeling like I’ve done too much. Because I’m afraid of feeling like I haven’t done enough.