This Much Is True

I was thirty-five when we started dating His tongue Like a razor when he spoke Yet so soft Yet so gentle When he kissed me (much like his heart) And while I pushed And pushed and pushed He pulled He pulled me into him And he peeled me Away from myself I remember telling him “It seems as though people are always coming and going; No one ever wants to stay” He yelled at me with his tongue sharpened like a whip “Who in their right mind would stay? You make it so hard to get off the front porch and no one wants to sit on your front porch, especially when there’s a constant storm around you” Of course I did what I always do I called him an idiom and cracked a joke about the Wizard of Oz (or some bull like that) But he had a point and I knew it I knew it because I felt it So. I invited him in. He’s past the couch but not quite to the bedroom yet- I am a work in progress He knows this Because he is too And as I sit here on his own couch Staring at the ceiling fan That makes me nearly as dizzy as he does I want so much to tell him He is the best thing about me But I can’t do it Because it would be a lie If he and I were to part ways Today Let it be said Right here, right now I’d be no worse for wear because I am now aware that the best thing about me is myself He knew this even before I did He has shown this to me and for some reason I believe him