I live in my head. I live second-to-second, thinking about my mistakes, the future, the past, the present. I drown in these thoughts. I get stuck in the merry-go-round of my regrets, lost in the chaos of my thoughts, and burdened by the sadness in my soul. I have frequent nights of crying, mornings of dread, and days so low that I am never sure how to lift my head up to face another day. Even on my sunniest days I can be found a million miles away, dreaming of tomorrow, reliving a different lovely moment, thinking about my next step. Some days I feel like the world is sitting on my chest, watching my next move closely but at the same time not caring about me at all. I get pulled in two directions. I would describe myself as someone who finds inspiration in everything and everyone. I am someone who sees more after one glance at a person. I am someone who will write a poem about the way the sun shines through a specific window on a fall day. I am someone who would write a fairytale about the strangers talking at the bus stop. The other side of me never wants to move. The other side of me sees darkness, feels nothing, and whose writing could rip through one’s soul. Sometimes I have trouble seeing who I am, because these two sides fight each other at every moment.
And then there’s you. For some reason, this battle I have within myself never scared you. My plethora of thoughts and emotions never intimidated you. My tears didn’t drive you away. As I peeled layers away, revealing the darkest, dustiest, scariest parts of my heart, you stayed calm. You never flinched at my harsh words, never looked at me condescendingly on my low days, and never told me to “get over it”. Your patience when you watched me battle the demons in my head always brought my back to earth. Your ease balances my complexity. Your gentleness softens my edges. On the days I feel so out of control and worn out from these battles, you stand firm. On the days I can’t see straight, you guide me. You remind me to breathe. You don’t rush me. You don’t try to glue my pieces together. Instead, you gather them. You admire them. You hold them. You know them. You love them.
The most important things you’ve ever said to me are the statements you make about standing beside me. You have never tried to be my knight in shining armor. You have never tried to be the solution. You remind me that you’re there. And on the days my darkness tells me to push you away and save you the trouble of me, you are unfazed.
The most important things you’ve ever said to me are the things you say in confidence. You tell me you love me. You tell me you are there for me. You tell me that I never have to face anything alone.
The most important things you’ve ever said to me are the things that bring calm to my storm, clarity to my clouded mind, and light to my darkest nights.
The most important thing you’ve ever said to me is that I will always have you. And somehow, in a millisecond, that puts my demons to rest.