A Striking of Steel - Blog Assignment 2+3

I have been told on more than one occasion my spirit is deemed too giving. My empathy strikes like an iron, hot and metallic with a clang that resounds and rocks like thunderclaps to the soles and toes. My heart swings a heavy pendulum razor-sharp across a convicted convicts rope, waiting--
And it swung harder with each and every weighted beat, resounding, blood pounding in my ears as I stared up against the chalkboard, dusty green fields of rough writing and revelations. It was a project, a communal gathering of truth and self to be displayed on 5x6 postcards..And mine hung across, a banner brazen to the sky, revealing words that churned my stomach in a language heavy, strange, and foreign to my mouth. Weight hung in my stomach as I glanced over quietly, the many miles leftwards.
I had made the decision to place it out there-- And I would have to carry it over trenches and mountains now.
Ich liebe dich.
I looked over and wondered if they knew? Did they read the words etched across in fire and iron? What weight did they carry in the long run? What cross had I wrought to bear this confession?
I swallowed hard-- I did not know, then, of the mountains we would have traverse...
And how many, many long and treacherous miles lie in between.
I was not to know that the trenches we had dug then and there in mutual silence and know, we would claw from, and stand distant away from one another for a while, staring into those jagged scars of land and self.
I had cast my banner into the unknown, watching the cloth with those solid, lead words sprawled across the blazing white of surrender, and waited alone for the enemy to come.