His protection

For so long I have kept her in a box.
Chained, padlocked, electronically guarded, hidden in a corner.
She was too wild, too honest. She went against all those things I had had drilled into my head growing up.
Once, a man came along who opened that box when I wasn't looking. Claimed he could save her, train her, help me see how wonderful she was. For awhile, it worked. It felt wonderful to be as one with her again, to soar unencumbered by forced morality and just feel what I felt. But there were no boundaries, soaring could lead to an eternal float through space, it frightened me. Turned out I needed more. I needed emotional connection to keep me safe, to not feel used. I needed boundaries. I put her back in that box, vowing to never trust anyone again to see her.

The chains are slowly coming off that box again, however. I have found someone who is patient and honorable enough to lead her out into the light, as if coaxing a wild kitten out of the gutter, and prove to me once and for all that she and I are one and the same person. Prove that I can trust that part of my self that scares me the most. Help me understand her, identify with her.
Someone to set boundaries, so that I am free to soar, but always in the confines of his protection.