I can remember the moment
I knew I wanted to be with him
forever.
He thought my heart
was still reaching backward
toward another man.
I thought his heart
wasn’t reaching for me
at all.
For a moment,
we were both standing there
with the wrong story in our hands,
hurt
by things neither of us meant,
afraid
of things neither of us had done,
bleeding
from wounds
the other had never made.
But as it turns out,
he did care.
And I was already gone
from the place
he was afraid
I still belonged to.
And the way we handled that conflict
showed me what it looks like
when two people
refuse to leave.
Refuse
to be cruel.
Refuse
to let a misunderstanding
put its hands around the throat
of something rare
and beautiful.
It showed me what it feels like
when you are not the only one
running straight into the fire
to put out the flames.
When you are not the only one
standing in the smoke,
genuinely asking
how to fix something
you believe you may have broken.
It is possible
for two good people
who have lived through
a whole lot of bad
to find each other
and finally be happy.
To be grateful
for the simple mercy
of each other’s presence.
To love someone enough
to want them
whole,
healthy,
safe,
and becoming
the happiest version of themselves.
To lay every terrible thing
you have ever done
in another person’s hands
and have them
look at all of it,
look back at you,
and love you anyway.
🖤