YAYAYAYAYAYAYYYY!!! Admiral Fubar will be home in 19 days!

I’m so excited. I’ve been planning all the adventures we’re going to have when he gets back.

But first, for sure, we’re gonna go get black forest shakes at Burgerville and catch up.

I’m so excited! Did I mention? YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYYYYY!!!!

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

I looked up from the computer to Liam as he stood at the open door of the balcony. Much welcome spring sunlight giving him a golden aura. I hadn’t even heard him land.

“I’ve been busy with work and…”

“And avoiding me.” He accused.

“I cleaned the balcony and left the door open.” I said

I waited for him to come in, but he turned and stretched his wings, tipping his face to the light. Every time I see him, I am amazed by his beauty; the sheer awesomeness of his existence.

“Your writing has faltered, and you have not been to the woods in a month.”

I glanced back at the chapter I was working on. It was stale and I knew it; the character arc flawed and my pacing off. It’s boring to write so it will be boring to read.

I sighed. “I know.”

He turned back to me then. Drawing his wings tight to his body and ducking into the living room.

“I think sometimes, Athena. You forget who you are. You worry about your job and making a living and you forget that you are supposed to write. You give that place 5 days a week with too much focus and when you are finally free to write – you are drained and you have no strength left to channel the words that are your true purpose. You’re choosing wrongly, this path of working for other people who don’t give you value.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about that, Liam?” I snapped. “You live in one world and have the luxury of “visiting” mine when you feel like it with no consequence. I live in two worlds. TWO. One foot in each and it’s exhausting, and freakish and disorienting and sometimes hallucinogenic – and almost always lonely.”

I stood up from the computer pushing past him to the kitchen to boil a kettle of water for tea.

“I didn’t mean to make you angry,” He said, reaching out to me as I brushed past.

“Then don’t come in here all accusatory when you have no better options to offer and I’m doing the best I can.” I set the water to boil and crossed my arms. “There are a lot of demands on me right now – I don’t need any from you. You’re my Guardian, not my mother, or my manager or even my boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I truly did not mean to upset you. I am only worried about your path.”

He walked around the counter reaching out for my hands, which I gave after a moment of self-pity. My hands always feel better when held in his strong grasp – so balanced and centered.

“I’ve felt you in our world less and less these last few weeks and when I check on you, you are busy pouring over numbers for people who do not love you, receiving passive aggressive abuse and disrespect – and yet you remain.”

“They’re not all like that. Some of them are amazing. They are kind and thoughtful and wise and they help me remember that I am a person – otherwise I’m alone in my room writing for days on end and forget to eat or that my body has human needs. They ground me to reality with numbers and function – so I can let my spirit visit you safely.”

Drawing me in he mumbled, “I had not thought of that.”

I savored his embrace. Finding it too gives me anchor while simultaneously the freedom to explore a world not my own, to fearlessly invest in love and boldly challenge my notions about what is real and not. My work during the day gives me root in this world – my writing at night gives me wings in his.

I knew what he meant though. My roots are too strong right now, my wings weak. I need more time aloft. I feel starved inside for that freedom and it’s showing in my writing and my desire to cave.

I squeezed him, nuzzling my face against his chest to smell that unique blend of crisp air and sun-warmed leaves that is his scent. “I know what you mean, though, and I do love you for it.”

Later, I sat in front of my computer plugging away on a chapter revision while he stretched out on the sofa watching episodes of Firefly and chuckling. Still, even with Liam present, I struggled through uninspired writing – which worries me a great deal that he is more right than I would like to admit.