"I know that we have more to see,
more stress we have to fight.
I know the morning always comes
with the evening close behind.
Yet through every single day I know I get to hold you tight.
I'm scared we'll miss our chance to live, you know I'm worried that we might.
And it's eating me inside, it's eating me inside.
Maybe one day we'll be fine."
++
It's 2018. A new year. New opportunities. Hopefully a new life.
2017 was an awful year. I hated it and I'm glad it flew by. I don't think I could bare any more of what happened last year. I want this year to be different. I don't want to be betrayed and abandoned. I don't want to be hurt by people I chose to trust, by people I let in. All the pain made me put my guard up again. I don't want to be with people. I'm in and out of depression. But I don't want to isolate myself anymore. I don't want to lock myself in my apartment, doing nothing but go to work and go straight home afterwards. I don't want to hate myself this year. I want better health, more happiness, more people surrounding me. More laughs, more quality time. More love, more you and me. More stability, less worrying, less pain. I want to be happy.
We've had struggles, you and me, lots of them. Life has been rough on us these past three and a half years. I've cried so much, felt so much emotional pain. But in the middle of my chaos, there was you. You still love me exactly the way I need to be loved. You take care of me whenever I really need it. When work and life has been hard on me and only thing I want to do is shower and go to bed you say, "Come sit in the kitchen and talk to me while I make dinner. I'll make it, you can just relax." You hug me and hold me. That's my love language. Physical touch. If given to me by the right person, it can heal a multitude of scars. As soon as I feel your arms wrap around me, it feels like a blanket. A warm, protective blanket. It feels so much like home. I haven't had a real home, a permanent home, in a while. And through all the mess you've been there. So I realized I have made you my home. Your arms, your love, your touch, your laugh, your smile... that's my home.
YOU ARE READING
Read This When I'm Gone
Non-Fiction"And when you're sitting on the side of the road crying over what feels like the best god damn thing you ever had - well, at least you had it." Bear with me... This is quite the roller coaster ride, and that roller coaster ride is my relationship.
