Someone once told me
"Don't make the people you love, oxygen. Because once they leave you'll never be able to catch your breath."
But to me, he is not oxygen.
He is the ability to breathe.
He is my chest heaving up and down.
He is the very thing that keeps me living.
Without him oxygen would have no point.
He is existence.
To me he is not,
"The sun, the moon and all the stars."
He is gravity.
He holds my feel on the Earth and the plants in the ground.
He keeps the planets in orbit and our solar system in place.
He is the ability to live on a planet that would be otherwise uninhabitable.
To me he is not,
"The definition of perfect."
He is messy.
He is angry.
He is sometimes so broken, his heart aches with booming thunder.
And his eyes feel as if they can pierce through you like lightening.
But he is kind, and reminds me that perfect is not what to strive for.
He reminds me that happy is the goal.
And he is happiness.
l.f
YOU ARE READING
A Collection Of Things I Am To Afraid To Say
RandomSometimes, writing down what you wish you could say, is enough to make you better.
