Making Myself Fit

How do I make space in her space? How do I enter into this life, full and complex, cluttered and well stocked, without imposing? Without nudging out? Devaluing, or implying...where do I fit in this small space? My greedy too much self, with my gadgets and spatulas, plates and serving dishes, shoes, purses, hats, saddles, bridles, boxes, baggage, stuff. Her life was full before me, who am I to decree it needs me in it? Or my stuff at least. Oh to be loosed from these things, this weighty heavy trappings of another life. But my things are beautiful, valuable, utterly me. Do I presume? Make me fit? Move over here I come. Are you ready? Am I too much? She says there is a lot of me, a 4 bedroom house's worth, master suite's worth, princess that I am, walk in closet, roman tub, kitchen island me. But is that me? I long for simple pleasures, clean surfaces, minimal belongings, just what I need, not what I want. Why so much shame? Fear of being all that I am? A lot of "this" she said waving her hand over me, a gesture to describe the size of my being-ness...am I so much? Have I always been too much? And why is it wrong? TO be voracious for life, desiring so much, engorged on the senses, am I sensual beyond decency? am I really that? the fire horse, the un-marriable, unlucky, should be drowned at birth, hinoeuma, nothing in moderation, passionate and intense, unwavering in loyalty, fire in my belly. Why do I feel like too much? I do not want to "smallify"myself, minimize my life, shrink my soul into a tidy neat package. I am bone and sinew, spit and tears, laughter and ecstasy. How can I minimize me now? that I have found my wellspring of love? I want to drink it all in, swallow her entirely, drown myself in her eyes, there is so much to be seen, felt, tasted, before I even leave the bed..and the world with her by my side? Bliss, elation, rapture... How can she fit so well? How can she be my match so perfectly? How can I be myself in this? and make myself fit? I will not compromise, I will not lie, I will not change - evolve yes - but not change - for this love is truth, it is not fabrication, and I will not bend to make it so. If I am to be loved as I am, fully in my being-ness, all of it that is too much, I must not make myself fit. I must bring myself along and allow the space to open for me. Unfold, like rose petals in the dewy morning, I will shed the skin of old, but I will bring me with me. For this is who I am, and this is who she loves. And oh how she loves. Tender/violent/taking/giving/gently - kindness I have never known, tenderness I have never seen, passion that I can taste in her mouth, kisses like rushing rivers, sex like floating clouds over the eye of the storm, calm and portentous, empowered emboldened and utterly reckless, dissolving the lines between us, flesh into one, inside her, the universe opens up to me, I see no ending and no beginning, no time, no space, just lust, passion, love, eternity, seeking in her eyes, tasting in her mouth, I have drunk her nectar and tasted my love's sweet sticky sex. Crawl inside her, live in her mind, her heart, her soul. Melt into her body, caress her skin. Her love is like no other I have known. Where does it come from? What Angel's breath did she exhale into my life? How did I find it? What path did I choose that began this long and arduous journey to her? And ardent it was, defined and motivated entirely by love...Oh the inkling was so utterly inadequate, my hope entirely too small. She is vast, limitless, unending, sacred. There is more to her than I will discover in 100 lifetimes. So I will make myself fit by being utterly myself and letting her make space in her heart for me. the rooms of my heart are empty, waiting for her to dance into them and fill them with my new life, her amazing love, there is plenty of space for that, and that will always fit.