You didn't know when you met me. But how could you have?
You couldn't have anticipated slowly drowning in my things
maybe in my dreams, or our conversations,
but certainly not my forgotten chapsticks or mismatched socks.
But here you are,on your first date with my materialism
as you make room for all my conditioners in your bathroom
and my favorite picture books on your shelves.
I love that you are so willing to hold all my things when my arms are overflowing.
Here hold my bag and my extra shoes and my sunglasses and my kaleidoscope and this camera and this bottle opener and my green pen, don't drop it, it's my favorite!
Oh, can you find my phone, and what do I do with this bag? Also, I don't know where I put my sunglasses...oh you have them, great!
You are like an octopus,with enough arms to always have an extra one to hold the next thing that is falling out of my hands or my mind.
Without you and your capable arms, I would be barren.
The truth is I have too many things.
Too many things that I want, that I have, that I leave behind, that I dream about, that I need to do.
And its not just my things you carry, you carry me too.
When we met I didn't think I could date you
You seemed too lean, your hips too narrow, your demeanor too light.
I was afraid I was too big for you
that your arms wouldn't be wide enough to hold me at my largest
Or strong enough to pick me up from my lowest
Its true- I've been with two-dimensional boys in the past
Marveled at nothing but the chiseled points on their faces, and the tautness of their limbs
In the shadows of their shoulders, broad and thick like fortresses in themselves
They made me feel so small, so delicate, and feminine and small
But with you, I am whole.
I am rambunctious and thoughtful and wild and flawed and maybe, maybe even a little bit beautiful
I didn't know yet that one day I would spend whole weekends with my head pressed to your chest
Listening to the hum and whoosh of your heart
Intermingling my clothes and your clothes in my laundry
and your money and my money and my personality and your personality
till we had to fight over ownership of bowties and dumb jokes and burts bees
and stretched socks and broken sunglasses and sides of the bed.
I didn't know yet that I would spend weeknights trying to collect every tempered chuckle of yours from the phone receiver
To permanently enfold into my memory.
And hours in your car, and your house and your friends houses and across the table from you in restaurants, and at diners, movie theatres, airplanes, bars, weddings, museums, beaches, and on skype.
Till your things and my things started to become our things
and a shelf appeared in my closet to house the things your forgot when you left.
In all of these hours, this mini-lifetime we have had together,
I have learned that it doesn't matter that you are lean,
because your hands still reach up towards my dreams
because you understand the best gift you could give me,
is nothing compared to what you can help me do for myself.
It doesn't matter that your demeanor is so light,
because you can still pick me up from my lowest and hold me at my largest
but better yet, you have taught me that I can do it too.
because my hands are just as strong.
I used to grow irate when you shrunk my clothes in the laundry, or melted my chapsticks in your car or lost my dresses that I was almost sure had to be in your house
But now I take secret pleasure in observing the souvenirs of me scattered so lavishly throughout your life.
Each a mini celebration of how fortunate I am to date a boy so vast and so varied.
So solid yet so supple.
So grown yet so green.
So come, bring my sunglasses, bring your dirty clothes, I'll do your laundry with mine.
You couldn't have anticipated slowly drowning in my things
maybe in my dreams, or our conversations,
but certainly not my forgotten chapsticks or mismatched socks.
But here you are,on your first date with my materialism
as you make room for all my conditioners in your bathroom
and my favorite picture books on your shelves.
I love that you are so willing to hold all my things when my arms are overflowing.
Here hold my bag and my extra shoes and my sunglasses and my kaleidoscope and this camera and this bottle opener and my green pen, don't drop it, it's my favorite!
Oh, can you find my phone, and what do I do with this bag? Also, I don't know where I put my sunglasses...oh you have them, great!
You are like an octopus,with enough arms to always have an extra one to hold the next thing that is falling out of my hands or my mind.
Without you and your capable arms, I would be barren.
The truth is I have too many things.
Too many things that I want, that I have, that I leave behind, that I dream about, that I need to do.
And its not just my things you carry, you carry me too.
When we met I didn't think I could date you
You seemed too lean, your hips too narrow, your demeanor too light.
I was afraid I was too big for you
that your arms wouldn't be wide enough to hold me at my largest
Or strong enough to pick me up from my lowest
Its true- I've been with two-dimensional boys in the past
Marveled at nothing but the chiseled points on their faces, and the tautness of their limbs
In the shadows of their shoulders, broad and thick like fortresses in themselves
They made me feel so small, so delicate, and feminine and small
But with you, I am whole.
I am rambunctious and thoughtful and wild and flawed and maybe, maybe even a little bit beautiful
I didn't know yet that one day I would spend whole weekends with my head pressed to your chest
Listening to the hum and whoosh of your heart
Intermingling my clothes and your clothes in my laundry
and your money and my money and my personality and your personality
till we had to fight over ownership of bowties and dumb jokes and burts bees
and stretched socks and broken sunglasses and sides of the bed.
I didn't know yet that I would spend weeknights trying to collect every tempered chuckle of yours from the phone receiver
To permanently enfold into my memory.
And hours in your car, and your house and your friends houses and across the table from you in restaurants, and at diners, movie theatres, airplanes, bars, weddings, museums, beaches, and on skype.
Till your things and my things started to become our things
and a shelf appeared in my closet to house the things your forgot when you left.
In all of these hours, this mini-lifetime we have had together,
I have learned that it doesn't matter that you are lean,
because your hands still reach up towards my dreams
because you understand the best gift you could give me,
is nothing compared to what you can help me do for myself.
It doesn't matter that your demeanor is so light,
because you can still pick me up from my lowest and hold me at my largest
but better yet, you have taught me that I can do it too.
because my hands are just as strong.
I used to grow irate when you shrunk my clothes in the laundry, or melted my chapsticks in your car or lost my dresses that I was almost sure had to be in your house
But now I take secret pleasure in observing the souvenirs of me scattered so lavishly throughout your life.
Each a mini celebration of how fortunate I am to date a boy so vast and so varied.
So solid yet so supple.
So grown yet so green.
So come, bring my sunglasses, bring your dirty clothes, I'll do your laundry with mine.
