Every Morning I iron my wrinkles. I greet and help strangers. I float like a leaf trying to pin point where it is most accurate for it to land.
Sometimes,
Most times.
I overlook the fact I'm floating. I forget to remember what its like to always be touching ground. You grow selfish and arrogant. You grow ideas in your head and you sink into them. But you grow.
Regardless if its sideways or vertical. Grow. Live.
Leave something for another selfish ******* to love.

You. You were, are & will be my "first" to alot of things. I love you & you love me more. But I loved you in pieces and you insisted in loving me whole. You frightened me. The idea of you insisting in fixing me made me want to crawl away into the narrowest corner to never be heard from. You taped my wounds but knew you'd leave cracks. It wasn't enough. You glued my parts but nothing holds on forever. Once you began to sew, I pushed away. That meant safety. Assurance. That meant being fixed & I did not want that in fear the scar would grow cover & soon fade & I would be forced to forget about my struggles and pain. I did not want to feel safe. I did not want assurance of your love. I wanted to live on the edge & always know you "chose" to love me all over again, every single morning. I wanted you to love me & all my broken parts but maybe just one at a time.

I'm considering myself to be happy the day I wake up feeling nothing at all. My job is to live & your job is to decay. I look for beginnings while you pray for the end. Mix my emptiness with yours so that you can offer me nothing & have me say I love you in despite of everything. Read my mind, break me down but I promise you will never understand me. Will you love me in despite of that?

& tomorrow morning while she opens her eyes, kiss her neck to make sure she wakes up with a smile. Don’t get up & cook her a fancy breakfast that she’ll only eat half of, instead lay there & play with her hand as the sun rays bright up the room. As the smell of her skin enlightens your life. Despite of how much she criticizes her hands, let her see how much of a perfect fit they are for yours. Of how after long days of sailing her hands are the lighthouse your boat will always follow in search of home. Play with her hair until she falls back asleep & listen to her heartbeat, watch her dream. & while she’s slipping away from the world tell her everything. Of how you at times miss her even after just seeing her. Of how you melt every time she says your name. Of how every letter to hers has become everything to you. Of how she completes you. Tell her how you bruised your knuckles in breaking your walls to have her come in & sat there for days & watched them bleed out every bit of doubt yet you never emptied them out. How you refused to show her fearing she’d hurt in trying to fix them & realizing she couldn’t heal all of me. But tell her she was always enough for me. Tell her 10 or 40 years from now while wheelchair shopping, I’ll still look at her & feel the world stop. How I’ll always carry a piece of her & how she’ll always have a hug saved with me.