"Do you think less of me?"
"Why would you even consider that thought?"
He sounded offended.
"I guess failures make you less of a person."
He pulled me into a hug and breathed to my hair.
Shushing the chaos that took residence
in the crevices of my thoughts.
In that moment, failing seemed
to be worlds away.
He looked at me like I was magic,
and maybe I was.
Maybe I was too preoccupied
highlighting my flaws,
and there he was counting
all the amazing things
that I deny day in and day out.
He looked at me like I can do anything,
and maybe I actually could.
Maybe I could be invincible,
because it sure as hell felt
like it whenever he smiles at me
with the silent words saying
"I'm proud of you, always."
Maybe I am set for
greater things, maybe I am so
much more than I give myself
credit for,
maybe I am meant to be a
supernova in the vastness of his galaxy.
How could this amazing man
hug a ticking bomb as if
cradling a new born child?
How could he see past the
imperfection and still call
me beautiful?
How could a man like him
exist in a world full of
doubts and cynicism?
And maybe I am actually winning
in life despite the failures
because I have him.