i guess i knew when i realized no matter how far i strayed, how hard i ran away, you always found me. bloodied and battered, hiding under some cheap excuse. you would pull me out, and gently clean me up. tell me how i knew better as you patched my wounds. brushed the hair out of my eyes as you told me all that really mattered was how i was okay. no matter how many times i repeated the process, you never lost the gentleness in your touch. the love in your words. the sigh of relief at finding me, broken and bruised. and the expert way in which you put me back together every time. it was once i realized you had held each part of me in your own hands, in its purest and most shattered form, allowed them to scrape your palms as you held them still tighter. and you still loved me all the better for it. i guess i knew once i realized you weren't going to leave. no matter how many times i made us both bleed in the process, i suppose i knew because no matter how hard i tried to convince you to leave, you stayed.