Love and other pursuits

When 2 become 1

Everything I want to do is a joke. A phrase, a project.

My clothes cause you clutter, My dreams are just pipe

My desire to travel is selfish, my intention to write is just hype.

To clear my debt is your next intention. You insist that I need your help.

Every purchase I plan you deem reckless, and try as I might I can’t help that

I don’t want the same things that you do, and its only fair that I clue you into

The money I make will be mine. I’ll buy pieces I love just for the art.

I’ll travel to Thailand, on my own if I have to, even if it means we’re apart.

This life that I’m living is mine, and the memories I make, the works I create

I do because life is about fulfilment

And living just in yours does not fulfil me, so sue me

I love you, but to exist, you must let me be

To co-exist, you need to embrace me

My whims and my fantasies. As you do for me

I’ll do for you. One is a good number, but not better than two.

So don’t treat me like the child, claiming the role of the parent

When I’ve lived on my own, paid all my bills and my rent

By myself, and even if I did just survive

The independence was thrilling. Its when I felt most alive

So don’t make me crave that again, by making me just an ‘addition.’

Feeling alone when you married to someone is dangerous and leads to the dangerous addiction

Of needing your own time and space to stop you from losing you

Its only fair that I tell you this, so you can never say ‘I never knew’