The light in my life ended the night you tried to get personal with a bullet. That night you called me up, and me and your demons had a chat.

We became friends and I invited them in with a welcome mat so openly that they never left. They agreed to leave you alone as long as I took partial custody, and I accepted eagerly, for you.

Now some years have passed. You're all grown up and apart in a relationship built to last, and I'm stuck here in the nightmare aftermath of heavy stone arms, shaking hands, and panicked breathing every other weekend.

That's what "I love you" means to me. The first time I gave of myself eagerly to get partial custody of someone else's demons.