Accidental Intimacy.

We fall into each other slowly and it isn't planned. #10 of 90 days of writing.

Sometimes the most intimate thing you can do is not talk about "something."

I am not saying that we should avoid anything—conflict or any other type of discussion—as a means of "keeping the peace."

However, real intimacy is born from multiple cycles of rupture and repair.

And that takes time.

Intimacy is not automatic.

Because you think you see me doesn’t mean you know me, or I know you.

We take time to reveal ourselves to each other.

Intimacy is earned.

We hurt each other and then tend those wounds, intentionally.

We tend in words,

deeds,

and silence.

If either person participating in any kind of relationship cannot tell when to push and when to shut the fuck up…

that relationship will have short life.

We cannot force intimacy.

Intimacy is you and I opening slowly,

testing the waters with each other.

Not too deep, not too quickly.

Just right…just right there.

Intimacy happens in moments, mostly unsuspected, rarely or if ever planned.

Intimacy is you and me—disheveled and tired—showing ourselves to be who we are and being accepted.

There is no rush.

There is no urgency that can replace care born from patience.

Real intimacy takes time.

And if it is real it is worth it.

I find myself caring more with less effort.

I find myself taking breaths where there was once this rush to talk.

In that space I listen.

My hears more open, my heart louder, my fears more stilled, and my own voice clearer.

I find you…

easier to hear,

easier to accept.

easier to trust.

easier to speak to.

And in that ease…

Between each word,

Between each breath,

Between our hands…

Patience.

Lotsa love,

~Justice