A Fresh Hope in Nostalgia

The world is loud, deafeningly so, but with you there is calm in it.
You don’t stop the chaos, but you show me how to sway with it.
I am a tree in a storm and I struggle to delay being uprooted.
You show me how to lean with the wind rather than fight it.
The permanency of this solution is still unknown, but for now it is my only solace.
This power you wield hypnotizes and terrifies me.
To attach so strongly so quickly to you, I feel vulnerable.
Be strong!
Be independent!
These orders are shouted from every feminist and family member in site.
But at such a young start is it not alright to need someone?
Is it frowned upon to ask for help?
To bury my troubles and build my sanctuary above them?
Will they crawl from the ground and threaten the architecture I will come to love?
Or will they stay buried and shrivel in the dark?
I have no clue and I am still young enough to know I will survive either outcome.
So fuck their opinions of my loyalties, fuck every thought aimed at this decision with bad intentions.
I am falling in a way I thought was lost to my middle school daydreams.
I am glowing, I am happy, whether it is for years or for a second.
I am alright for now on this island we have fostered
I am fine, truly.