art is for dark, love is for light

recently, perhaps because it’s the transition weeks between winter and spring — I can feel the pieces of my life falling into place, like tetonic plates, forming and reforming the continents of my world. so, I’ve decided this: art is for dark, and love is for light.

both, of course, must be capable of holding light and dark. but my intention is to give my darkness to my art — so that I can give my light to love. this counter opposition is necessary for me to feel free.

for the longest time, I’ve struggled with expecting too much of men — that they should be able to hold my darkness, my emotional turmoil, my mercurical, stormy weather. now I’m with someone who actually can. but I’ve also grown more fully into myself. I don’t need, nor want, him to. I want to pass simple, joy-filled days with him, and instead, give the heaviness of my emotions to my art, which, ultimately, is the only vessel which is endless, infinite, and always there, day or night, anytime I need it, in any country — until the day I die.