Real Love
I call her my friend,
but I’ve never been too good at choosing those.
Underneath sweet and friendly facades are words
that don’t sound much like love.
“Because I love you,
you must
bow to my will and
subject yourself to my every wish,
be who you are not,
do what you never would have.
Because I love you,
you should talk bad about your other friends,
even if it makes you feel guilty,
even if it’s not true.
Because I love you,
you will feel alone
and underappreciated,
taken from
but not given to.
Because I love you,
I will hand you all my problems on a silver platter
I know you can handle it,
I know you want to take them away.”
And because I love you, I will—
I will give and give
until there is none of me left.
This is not what love should be.
I didn’t know until now.
I didn’t need to choose him
because he chose me.
“Because I love you,
I will never want to change you,
even the parts you say are your flaws.
Because I love you,
I will let you have your space
and remind you that
other people,
other things,
matter more than me,
even if I don’t want them to.
Because I love you
I want a future for you,
and a future for me,
and one together if you are willing.
Because I love you,
my heart belongs to you—
there is no one else
I’d trust with it.
Because I love you,
I will tell you
every day
because it is the truest thing
I have to say;
I will show you how beautiful you are
in kisses
and lyrics,
in expressions
and touches,
in every way possible.”
Because I love you,
I will do the same.