You Were My Lighthouse

Christian Holzinger
Christian Holzinger

You were my lighthouse, the light in the dark that guided me. We met by accident, it was supposed to be a strange pit stop in my journey. I don’t think we were ever supposed to meet. Our coupling was a strange, unexplained blip on the radar. It left heads scratching. Our love was a flower growing between the cracks of a city sidewalk. We found each other despite the fact that neither one of us was ready.

But our paths crossed, and you became home.

You said I was just floating, and I used you as a raft. Maybe that was true. When you met me, I was drowning in the wreckage of my own life and I followed you blindly. I left everything I knew behind and we were going to make it work.

Maybe I was always meant to float freely. I tried to tie myself down, and it worked for a while. Until the call of the sea was too much for me. The solid ground on my feet taunted me and I craved the feeling of waves, the ocean breeze.

You were my lighthouse, the light in the dark that I followed.

You were there to mark the safe entry, the harbor that cool waves lapped against. I always came back to you. I thought I always would.

I had some wild oats left to sow, I told you. I had one more journey into the unexplored darkness, floating freely, and I would come back to you. I untied my ship in the middle of the night and sailed off. I never looked back until I was sure I wouldn’t see your light.

I thought we would know when it was time, when I had nothing left to sow. I thought that my journey would always end with you. One day, we would meet again. We’d meet on the shore with tired eyes, amongst the crashing waves. You’d see the rippling water and know my journey was over. We would fall into each other and you would be home again. It would be all wind and love and there would be nothing left but us. I held you in the back of my mind, like a flicker of light in the dark.

But I can’t remember what your light looks like. I can no longer navigate the way back to your harbor, your shores that I once knew like the back of my hand.

The light is gone and I am letting go. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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