Monday,
starting the week with a kiss good morning and the scent of breakfast blend in the air.
No time for eggs, we'll settle for Eggos and Poptarts.
A hurried goodbye and meaningful promises to return soon.

Tuesday,
waking up late,
****,
going in in a rush, no time for a shower,
quick kiss and we're out the door.

Wednesday,
traffic is crazy, no break today.
In a hurry to get back home.

Thursday,
leftovers again, really wanting to spend all day together,
only cuddling close at night.

Friday,
longer with the promise of an enjoyable presence tonight.
A romantic comedy, maybe,
some homemade spaghetti and a glass of wine,
relaxing into each other's curves late into the evening.

Saturday,
No time to rest, so many plans been made,
maybe dropping by IHOP and laughing at the complicated orders.
Hanging with family or friends, visiting the city,
coming home and getting warm, playing games and feeding the cats.
Gentle teasing making the night right.

Sunday,
Brushing the hair out of your face and laughing because we woke up at noon.
Making a big breakfast because we'll feed ourselves and our friends, assuming we ever leave the house.
Spending most of the day lazing around and watching cheesy horror movies, yelling at the protagonists for being stupid, making a big dinner to last us the week
and accidentally saying "good morning" instead of "goodnight" because it's past our bedtime and we're closer to the weekend.

A life of love,
because we have each other.

I haven't told anyone that I'm scared of getting close to you because I'm just waiting for you to leave.
Nine-year-olds should not be wielding knives,
but you started years ago.
You're capable of so much. So many good things.
You're a singer, a musician, a dancer, an athlete. You've got eyes so blue the sky is jealous.
Things aren't alright here, and I wish you would learn to take it,
but at the same time, I don't want you to be like me...

I've already lost one brother.
Please don't let me lose the other one.

It's usually pretty easy to forget how much of a kid I still am.
I'm only eighteen, ****, why should I feel older?

I laugh when I stumble and before I know it
I'm usually picking myself up and speaking in chatplay (falls over and dies).
I have 69 followers and the fact always makes me grin.
I can't help but glance at your face and whisper to myself,
*"You make my heart go *doki doki."

I'm too weak to admit that I'm not enough for you.
I hate my inability to dry your tears and be there when you need me.
If nothing else, I just want to be able to turn
your every frown into a smile bright enough
to put the sun to shame.
Maybe you could cure fatal diseases with that laugh of yours.

I just want you to be happy,
for us to float amongst the stars together and travel the galaxy
with our fingers twined and squeezing
and our words trailing comets.

Just smile, baby.

I'm bleeding horizons into the carpet with every ideal I can't obtain.
Oxygen catching in my throat, my lungs don't want it anymore.
You left me heaving promises into thin air and holding myself up on a chair with a missing leg.
Who are you to tell me what I don't want?

I'm not scared of you. (I'm terrified.)

I can walk this earth alone and confident. (Will you catch me when I stumble?)

Tripping over my own tearstains is an accident I've grown used to,
but outsiders still think it odd...
Who would've known to be afraid of themselves?

I want to hold you.
I want our breathing to synchronize and our hearts to beat in the same rhythm while our eyes stay locked and the only thing running through our minds is love.
I want to squeeze your hand and twine our fingers together and feel your pulse when our wrists touch.

I want to show you the house I grew up in and introduce you to my family.
I want you to step foot in that apartment and touch the walls and understand why I can call it home.
I want to take you to my backyard and hear your laughter fill the air while my dogs cover you in kisses because, ****, you're something special.

I want to visit your hometown and learn of everything that means something to you.
I want to meet your brother and thank him for holding onto someone so amazing.
I want to  hear the confidence in your voice when you introduce us to your family and press my lips to your forehead so you know how proud I am of your bravery.

I want to explore the world with you and create memories only we can share.
I want to wake up every morning with your breath on my skin and stroke your hair while I think of how lucky I am.

I want you.

This is my final part in our game of
Tug of War.
I guess we'll talk again
when she stabs you in the back.