You jump, I jump. Remember.-Titanic
I feel sorry for the man that loves me. How strong he has to be. To put up with me. My moods. My sadness. My elation. My impulsiveness. How exhausted he must be. I’m a force of nature. Lightning and thunder. A storm that is unaware of her worth. He tells me of my beauty. Every day. He tells me how important and smart I am, yet I do not believe him. I still flit around like I could give a good God damn.
He stays. Why? Why does this good man stay? How he must get tired of loving an insolent child of 45. A woman that will never be happy. A liar. A wanton woman. Crazy beyond words. A bitch. Stubborn as fuck. But with a heart that loves like no other.
With a caring and calm hand he wipes the hair out of my eyes. He can always calm the storm that dwells within me. The chaos. The light that flits everywhere. Like a demented Tinker Bell.
He centers me. He knows me, this good man. He’ll be here forever. Why, I’ll never know. How lucky I am to have such love. How lucky I am to love him.