I Chose You
I chose you to share the weight of the worlds problems with.
To look up at the stars with (I’m sure we’ve done that once or twice).
To be care free with.
Tied down with.
Even on the days with stones in our shoes we’re making memories,
some scar, some we line our hearts with.
We chose each-other to love even before we knew about the not so pretty, before we knew we could love each-other through it,
maybe even more.
I chose you to be exhausted with.
To see me as you should,
A real one.
To hold and be held by.
I duck your compliments and when I don’t get them I say things like, “thanks for saying I look nice”, when I’ve put some mascara on.
I save things up.
Like the thing you said that time.
Or I’ll round on you about the spoonful of ice cream you left in the container.
It’s funny how we got here isn’t it.
Just two imperfect humans who chose each other to love and start a family with.
I ask when you’re getting home a lot.
I look at you sometimes when you don’t realise.
The outline of your jaw, your full head of hair, you’ve barely changed.
You’re still the man I fell in love with.
Why haven’t you aged that much?
I still roam around in unflattering underwear.
I think about what we made together, the lines on my stomach and face, the journey it tells.
I chose you to watch these babies we made grow before our eyes, so we could be by each-others side and laugh and cry and realise what actually matters, while their smiles reflects in our own.
And here we are.
Consciously next to each other
Unconsciously waiting for one of them to stir.
Waiting for the couch to swallow us whole.
And I’m somewhere on the edge and somewhere curled up next to you.
Still somewhere in the middle.
Not always touching but always near.
But right now we choose each other to watch TV with.
I ask what you want to watch,
you tell me you don’t know.
I say I don’t either.