I want to hold your hand every day, for as many days as I have. I want to take every broken thing that you put back together and use it to lift you up. Sometimes I can't believe that I deserve this. Sometimes I'm scared about how much I feel I've come to need you.
Because I've worked so hard, and I've done so much. To be productive, to contribute, to build a life. To follow what I'm passionate about, what I love, what I'm good at. To take care of others. But nothing has ever felt like a reason for being, one that answered every question, like sitting quietly next to you does.
Sometimes I think that maybe, I gave you the rest of my days on the day that I met you. And if you ever want them, all you have to do is ask.
