Change is Good

Wednesday, August 30th 2017 I don't know how it is you are so familiar to me, or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before. In another time, a difference place, some other existence. But I constantly look at you and it brings me back to the day I met you. You got in my car and I quietly let you blossom and blow me away. You provided a unique joy that I would never forget. I remember driving and trying to look at you but not trying to make it obvious that you had my attention and possibly you had won my heart. I tried not to look into your eyes because I knew I'll be drawn in-- and then my soul saw you, and kind of went "oh, there you are. I've been looking for you."

August 18th, 2017 You are not a premeditated list or a recipe of perfection. You are not a recorded inventory of adjectives that design a flawless human being. You are not a checklist of qualities that make a good person. You are raw, and flawed. You are broken tiles that create artwork. You are a rainy day that forms beautiful rainbows. You are an ugly sweater that warms your heart all day. You are imperfect in every sense of the word; but I love you twice as much for it.

Sunday, June 25, 2017 I am not very good at a lot of things: I cannot paint ya pictures because the beautiful things in my head cannot be translated.  I cannot sing to ya perfectly because my voice has a habit of falling flat.  I cannot dream of having ya next to me all day no matter how badly I just want to hug ya.  I cannot hold ya because I will probably want to keep ya with me. There are endless things I am not good at, but I can brush the knots out of your hair, out of your back when your day has become too much to bear, but I will be good to you.

July 13th, 2017 In twenty years from now, I don't want to be just another name. In twenty years from now, I still want to be in your life. In twenty years from now, I want someone to stop you on the street, ask you how you're doing and bring up my name.  In twenty years from now, I don't want your answer to be "I haven't seen him in ages". In twenty years from now, I hope you say "He's waiting for me at home".