When you first start dating  
All the imperfections and pet peeves  
Fly right out the proverbial window

You don't notice the way they  
Chew with their mouth open or  
Leave their tooth brushes by the sink
You don't notice how bad their oral hygiene is
And you convince yourself the  
Loud snores they make while you  
Lay wide awake are endearing

What you really don't notice is  
How short tempered they can be  
And how they can snap at you for simply  
Pointing out the clothes on the floor

Or how they don't communicate  
Their problems well

How they are flighty and accidentally  
Interrupt conversations

And you certainly don't notice how  
Unknowingly demeaning they can be  
Towards you at times  
How they can make you feel insignificant and  
Minuscule when they never meant to

But now I am seeing all these imperfections
Flaws found like a scratch lottery ticket
Each day scrapes off something new for
Me to win
Like the way they leave the tooth paste
On the counter
Or leave the gas on empty for me to fill

And each new day brings to light  
My own imperfections
The way my room is a mess till midnight
When I go through a mania period
Or that I whisper during movies
Letting slip what I think the possible
Endings could be
That I can hold a grudge like no other

How do relationships function
With all these imperfections?
Why would you deal with someone  
Who is so imperfect?

That’s the thing though
You aren’t “dealing” with that person
And if in some way you are then
You shouldn’t be in a relationship

You do not deal with love
You accept love
Talk to love
Try to help love

Your end goal is not to change and
Morph love into something
Unrecognizable  

No, your end goal is to
Grow together and talk things out
To never stop growing together
To be there for each other
And to be honest with love
Not to hide how you feel about
The constant chaos of the clothes
And the toothpaste leaking out of the tube

Do not hide from love
Or you will lose it

I wish I could say it's going to get better
With a clear conscience
I wish I could make those empty claims
You hear again and again
But fill them up
With something tangible
And real
Something that meant anything would change
I wish I could grab your hand
And wipe your eyes
And say softly
"I've read the last page of our story
And guess what?
We get a happily ever after"
But I don't know the ending
And I don't know how long we've got until then
And I don't know if it's happy or tragic
But what I do know
Is that in this moment
There are more people than you know
Who love you
And I'm one of them
So when I tell you
It's going to get better or
We'll make it through this
Don't listen to what I'm saying
Hear what I mean
Because when I make those empty claims
That you hear again and again
What I mean is I love you
And that's very real
And maybe that means that things can change
But even if they can't
I love you
And that won't either

I've never known how to properly end a conversation with you, whether it be a phone call or a kiss good bye. Fingers fumble and awkward "I love you"'s and "good bye"'s drunkenly find their way out of my sober mouth. I never know how to say "fare well".

My theory is that I never want to say good bye in the first place. I'd rather be with you. Though you might be busy talking to someone else or in another room, I want to always be close to you. Saying "good bye" doesn't feel good at all. It feels like I'm going far away and I'm leaving a piece of me behind. I know I might sound clingy and suffocating, but I have adapted a terrible habit of needing someone around to keep me sane. I use to love to be alone, but now I go crazy with thoughts stampeding through my head. I hate to say good bye.

But I love to say "hello". Our "hello"'s are the best. We meet with kisses and hugs and sometimes chocolates. We meet with wide grins and bright eyes that catch the light just right at six in the evening. Our "hello"'s are heart warming and relieving.

The "hello"'s almost make the "good bye"'s worth it.

Almost.

I feel like I'm being shoved into all these little boxes, labeled "Teacher", "Doctor", "Psychologists", "Biologist", and "Computer Technician". But none of these fit me.

I am not cube shaped, no one is perfectly boxed. I feel like I'm drowning in these labels and I don't know how to swim yet. I'm only 17 and have no idea what I am doing tomorrow, let alone in the next three years.

Fearing something that hasn't happened yet, fearing a future that is so far but so close away, I find myself and many of my peers cram themselves into boxes.

Half of them don't want to be here either.

Growing up is romanticized into parties and friends and knowing exactly what you'll be doing tomorrow, in three years, in six, in eleven, in twenty. But I've watched my mother shake her head and cry, "I'm lost." I've watched her call her mother at two in the morning, lamenting, with tears falling on her breast. "I'm lost", she whispers.

That doesn't scream "having your **** together". She is 45 and she screams "I am human so help me".

I'm not sure what career I will choose, but I know what I want to be. I want to be Mother, I want to be Free. I want to be Cherished, and Good Natured. Auntie, Brave, Thoughtful, and Wife.

I want to be Happy.

Serendipity: Something that happens in a beneficial way without looking for it.

It has recently occurred to me that you are my serendipity.

You shut your eye lids and are transported into a different world, like flipping a switch, pulling a lever. Hours will pass by in my realm, but to you, galaxies swarm behind closed windows. To you, it will be moments before you awake again, if your slumber is dreamless.

If you dream I hope you dream of a world far away from here, but I hope you bring me along. And we can dance on the rings of Saturn, fly through Jupiter's core, and drink the sweet nectar of the Milky Way. Because when I am with you I hold my universe in my arms. I might never explore all of you, for you are vast, deep, complex. But I hope I can do more than scrap the surface. I hope I can dive into you and get lost in the Andromeda galaxy and loop around Orion's belt. I hope I can become so tangled that I cannot tell where you start and I begin unless I pay close attention. But I have ADD so expect me to wander.

Baby, while you sleep and galaxies pass behind your eyes I hope I can watch and fall into time with the rise and fall of your lungs and the drum of your heart. I hope we synchronize into our own awkward rhythmic beat like none other. To fall asleep to the music of your snores, subtle whispers that leak from your mouth, and the twitches your body will make life sublime.

While you are in a different world I will be right here, awaiting for your return to Earth.

I cannot explain you.

I cannot form my thoughts or emotions into words, but if I could make them into anything, they would be a rainbow of colors sky rocketing through the atmosphere and propelling themselves into the heavens.

You make me take compliments. You've forced me to see that I am worthy of life. I am not just taking up air. I am perfect to someone, even with all my flaws and misprints. I have a purpose. Even when I feel useless and so disconnected to the world, you yank me back down. You are an anchor, keeping me from floating too far away. You are a shoulder on which I can cry on. You are a raging fire when determined and calm water when provoked. You are kind and gentle and everything I want to try to be. If a person were to describe you in perfect detail five months ago, I wouldn't have believed them, couldn't of fathomed a person like you existing. But you do exist. And you let me exist and spin around you, like the moon to the earth. A satellite. You are my Earth. I am your Moon. And you are perfect.

I cannot say what I want to. I cannot express what I feel right now. But I hope you allow me the time to show you.