Happy Birthday, You.
You. The one who snuck up on me when I wasn't looking.
You always said, "Just so you know, I'll always be right here. No matter what."
I don't think either one of us thought how deeply that would be tested in the last few years. I have no idea how I would have made it without you. You, being you, say that I would have found a way.
"You're so much more of a bad ass than you ever give yourself credit for," you say.
But, I know better. I will never forget all those nights when the pain was THAT BAD. When I felt as if I would die if I threw up even one more time, the muscles of my rib cage aching and pulsing. When the floor would just not stay still. When standing up required a lot of planning. You were right there.
When I tried to be brave, you told me to knock it off.
"You're safe here," you said. "You don't have to put on your stage face."
So. I didn't. And you're STILL HERE.
You were just starting a very stressful new job when all the bricks fell out of the sky, rained right down on us. You did what you always do. You just withstood it with grace, tenderness, and a hand held out to me. I know how scared you were, too. In moments that I will never forget, we held each other close and rocked back and forth.
"Please. Don't. Leave." You said this over and over. I swore to you that I would never stop fighting. What I didn't say and should have said was that YOU were one of the reasons that I fought so hard.
Almost everything in my life eventually comes down to you.
Because the moment I met you, home was no longer a place. It was a person. I'm sorry I dragged my feet for so long. I knew it. I just wasn't ready to admit it. Now. Decades later. I am so grateful that our paths crossed on that college campus. That I looked past your mullet and peered into your eyes. That you looked past my pretenses of aloofness and saw that young woman who needed you.
Happy Birthday, T. The day you were born was my lucky day.
You always said, "Just so you know, I'll always be right here. No matter what."
I don't think either one of us thought how deeply that would be tested in the last few years. I have no idea how I would have made it without you. You, being you, say that I would have found a way.
"You're so much more of a bad ass than you ever give yourself credit for," you say.
But, I know better. I will never forget all those nights when the pain was THAT BAD. When I felt as if I would die if I threw up even one more time, the muscles of my rib cage aching and pulsing. When the floor would just not stay still. When standing up required a lot of planning. You were right there.
When I tried to be brave, you told me to knock it off.
"You're safe here," you said. "You don't have to put on your stage face."
So. I didn't. And you're STILL HERE.
You were just starting a very stressful new job when all the bricks fell out of the sky, rained right down on us. You did what you always do. You just withstood it with grace, tenderness, and a hand held out to me. I know how scared you were, too. In moments that I will never forget, we held each other close and rocked back and forth.
"Please. Don't. Leave." You said this over and over. I swore to you that I would never stop fighting. What I didn't say and should have said was that YOU were one of the reasons that I fought so hard.
Almost everything in my life eventually comes down to you.
Because the moment I met you, home was no longer a place. It was a person. I'm sorry I dragged my feet for so long. I knew it. I just wasn't ready to admit it. Now. Decades later. I am so grateful that our paths crossed on that college campus. That I looked past your mullet and peered into your eyes. That you looked past my pretenses of aloofness and saw that young woman who needed you.
Happy Birthday, T. The day you were born was my lucky day.
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