In Honor of Labor Day, here is a re-post of this blog from 2006. It’s a poem I wrote for my awesome boyfriend, and it’s still true all these years later. When I’m around him, I can be myself. The insecurity and anxiety I experience in the real world doesn’t apply inside our house. If anything, this drama with my family has reminded me of how amazing he is, and how unique it is for someone who comes from what I come from to find a partner that makes my life better instead of worse. I wish everybody had something so special.
Sometimes I forget,
While I’m sitting in the sun.
While I’m sleeping close to you.
I forget, and then I sink
Into the glowing warmth of flesh
Into the blood inside my veins
And I forget myself.
My difficult, hungry self inside my skin.
You’re the best, babe.
And if you’re saying to yourself, “hey, didn’t she promise a more mature attempt to deal with the fact that she saw and talked to her estranged mother for the first time in 5 years on Monday? And isn’t today Monday? What the dick?” You’re not wrong, I broke my promise. Unless you count this as an attempt, in which case I kept my promise and my attempt is just shit. Honestly, there was even more drama after the tertiary drama of me seeing my mom. In fact, me seeing my mom was the least dramatic thing that happened in the last 7 days.