Each night, honoring my day, I read a yama lullaby outloud to myself. My favorite - "In the process of catching monkeys, small cages with narrow bars are made and a banana is placed inside the cage. Monkeys come, driven to futilely jimmy the banana out. In the moment when the monkey catchers come, the monkeys are totally free; all they have to do is drop the banana and run away. Yet, so few do."
Opening my heart has always been as hard as dropping that banana. Being claimed, an anathema. Cyber stalking, I find that old love, and know, all these years, I made the right choice. I read the "rate your professor" posts about him, and from that 10,000 foot view, getting that there's no way I could have lived a life more tidy, to have ever fit his cage. Domesticated, diluted, he succumbed to beige, eloquently distilled by freshmen hubris, honest, not always kind. To find the aliveness we had all those years ago in another, I'm now so ready for that gift. And eternally grateful. And totally ready to set us free.