If I came with a warning label it would look like this.
I will listen to you talk about whatever you want. Whenever.
I’m going to laugh and tell you people think I’m strong.
I’ll buy dinner, because I still don’t trust my cooking.
I will enter every conversation with intention
and leave it with so much unsaid, again.
I will always put the cap back on the toothpaste.
I promise I’ll do the dishes, just not today.
It would be best if you didn’t try
to get between me and my cross stitch.
I may not steal the covers but I’ll definitely kick you in my sleep.
I hope I’ll be able to write loads of bad poetry about you
and that you will just ignore it.
I will turn away from you assuming
you will turn me around, again.
I’ll give you sad eyes
whenever an overbearing member
of my family asks too much of me
but I will demand we have
dinner with them once a month.
I will eat nothing but yogurt
for days at a time and wonder why
you’re making such a big fuss over it.
I will answer the door
in one of your dress shirts
and only one of your dress shirts
as soon as you give me one.
I will insist that
I’m just fine without you
and it will be true
but still I’d rather
be with you than without.
You’re still my favorite way to suffer and
you should take that for the compliment it is.
I will continually ask questions even though
you don’t give me any answers and I will
live for the ones I can pull out of you.
I will not let you make me feel badly
about any of these things because
when you’re in love, you have to accept
everything that I am, that I wish I was,
and that I’m trying so desperately to be.
If you don’t get that, you don’t get me,
and you don’t get to live in my mess.
I wrote an earlier version of something similar to this in October of 2012. And while that version is still pretty accurate, I thought it deserved a rewrite, especially since I can’t seem to write anything else lately.