I am no longer looking, hoping, or even yearning to fall in love.
Sometimes there's no safe nor soft landing...
Sometimes you fall off the cliff and hit every flat surface, every pebble, every stone, and bolder on the way down. There are so many times I've climbed back up, just to fall over, and over again. It may break every bone in your body, may rip tendons and ligaments, and may leave you gasping for air, afraid to even think about love again.

So, no, I will not fall in love with you.

I want grow in love with you.

Instead of jumping off a cliff, let us get a garden, and tend to it
Sometimes there are beautiful flowers, but they may have thorns - you grow as you learn how to gingerly handle those with thorns
Some just make you sneeze... And if a booger lands on your love, you both laugh until you cry salty tears of joy, that slip down your faces leaving a river of flesh in between the dirt, because gardening is hard work.
Sometimes, those creations of beauty in the garden, that persist through seasons, doing as nature has created

They grow. I grow. You grow. We grow.

We don't fight with weeds or thorns - we have learned to speak to one another as gingerly as we handle the flowers with thorns we so adore

Grow with me, my love, if you dare, in our garden... Let us take out the weeds, together, so we know how best to get through more weeds. Let us leave our ghosts of painful memories of falling off those cliffs we thought were love... And could have been at the time.
Flowers, bushes, shrubs, rhubarb, dandelions, an apple tree, pine trees, can handle our ghosts so we can start again.

We will just start learning, paying attention, honestly, compassionately, gracefully
Let our roots be completely and complexly combined

Grow with me,
It's scary. It's new. And land softly if we need to leave on different paths that brought us together
Grow with me... my favorite place - is together In love

© Jen St George