It’s small things. Smiles. Thank you. Get home safe. You look amazing today. Did you eat? It’s small things. Things go unnoticed, too much. Remember that one time I panicked? I had to make sure you ate. Did you sleep well? Are you ok? Every year I gave I made sure you knew. Made sure you felt. The small things. Do you remember? We haven’t spoken in two months. I got tired. Of waiting. Of wanting. Of never having. You. Sometimes people are selfish. And you love them anyways. And forgive. You learn to teach them better. Sometimes they retain. Sometimes they never grow. But one thing for sure they always come back. Always. It’s a creating habit you form in them. Enabling them. Am I at fault? For being the lover I am? For being able to show them? Sometimes. Just sometimes. I am to blame. I know exactly what I am doing. We, as women, we have to teach. I taught you. And showed. You felt every inch of me. I gave. And gave. Waited. And waited. Now you’re home sick. Confused. Head against my breast. You feel warm. Home. So, Come home. Love doesn’t die, unless You give up. We can start over again. I will start all over again.
Written December 11,2015