Posted: January 5, 2013 in Uncategorized

I want to write a story that does justice, that measures who you are, captures the wonder, paints a picture full of nuance and beauty and wildly varied depths. I’d like to measure the vastness of the safe space you create for me – to tell how skillfully, how patiently you have tied fear’s hands behind its back and slowly inched it out the door without creating a scene. I need to describe that imperturbable well of calm in your eyes, your certain and stubborn refusal to be offended. I long to catalog your ungrudging giving, your gentleness, your kindness, your ready humor.


Your words about me will never be less kind than your words to me, will never tear me down, will never leave me exposed as the butt of some joke. Your sincerity slices through the buzz of lies around my heart, leaving me with no choice but to believe it when you say beautiful – not just to believe that you mean it, but to believe that it simply is truth.


I want to tell of your childlike faith, your unbridled grin. You live a mosh pit life, unhindered, unselfconscious, and in this I want to be just like you.


I want to write, and write, and write, but none of it is enough to tell the story of your heart matched to mine.


None of it is enough.



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