The parallels between He and Him are so stark.
And maybe this fairytale feeling won't last.
I know my record of luck,
I know it's unlikely this happiness will stay.
But I'm trying to hold on to this.

I was never comfortable around Him,
I never felt wanted by Him.
Him is all I can call the time I wasted.
Him made me feel like an accessory,
Like an obligation that he'd repeated too often.
I was always an object to Him.

He is welcoming arms,
He is compliments and wanting and trying.
I am worth effort, and time, and necessity to He.
I have been seen by He for all I am as a she,
He sees me as a person.

I will syphon this happy from the skirting boards,
I will store it away for the dark days.
This fairytale feeling has lit a fire.
I need to shout it from the rooftops.
I will hold onto this.
I will hold this.
Because it cannot last.