passenger.

for your love, I was a passenger. I was invited in, full of uncertainty and excitement. I checked my bag, I chose the seat that seemed practical yet would offer the best views- chances to see my familiar world from above, quiet and whole and tangible. and breathtaking. I relinquished my sense of control to see how high you’d take me. I breathed deep through my nerves and trusted you as we took off, the feeling both familiar and new. and when we settled at a sensible altitude I relaxed, I melted into my seat, I forgot all my fears. I was no longer a passenger but a part of this journey. and there was turbulence, of course- rough patches that made me question why I came, that made me grip my seat and close my eyes tight and believe in my blind trust for you and try to remember the advice I’d received in the beginning- how to react if everything came crashing down. but then my relief would swoop in as we straightened out, with just a few residual bumps I could ignore, I could breathe through.