Finding Love in Strange Places

Photo by Mayank_dimri on Unsplash

She found me broken, Or did I find her? Let’s call it mutual and start from there. There I was, slowly piecing myself back together when she stretched out her hand and said: “Come”.

Funny, thinking about it, she never held my hand, or picked me up. She just stood there and waited for me to stretch mine out. And I did.

That was when it all began. A gentle start slowly ramped up into an obsession. One visit turned into a daily routine. I went to see her every day. and every day, she opened her door to me with a smile. And every day I left her doorstep, worn, tired, but with a stupid smile plastered on my face and a promise to be back.

And boy, did I come back.

Those first days were nothing short of sweet torture. She had this way of asking the most out of me. She sweetened tempo into rhythm and made me love the music of motion. She took my sweaty palms in hers, pushed me to the floor and asked me for more. She pushed me to the very edges, my very limits and hurled me over the edge.

I found myself coming back, better, stronger. I took her in my arms and knew I was hers forever.

But I’m not the only one she sees. Often at her door have I found others. Some broken, others fixed, others passing wanderers looking for a fix. She welcomes them all, men and women. For her heart is kind and her smile is warm. We are her little family.

Am I jealous? No. Not really. There are some stronger, some sharper, some better looking than I’ll ever be. But I chose her and she chose me. Those others may see her for their own reasons. Who am I to judge when she has been so good to me. She is an ocean and I am but a passing storm. Aren’t we all?

Today, as I write this, I feel her marks upon me. Her sweet claw marks etched deep into my back. Every motion hurts yet every motion makes me smile. Every pain a reminder of how much further I have to go.

Perhaps tomorrow I get to see her again. My new love, my silent obsession, my gym.

#Humour #Love